. 


DOLORES! 


A  Tale  of  Maine  and  Italy. 


\ 

— BY— 


RUDOLPH  LEONHART,  A.  M., 


AUTHOR   OK 


THE  CHILDREN  OF  THE  OUTLAW  ;"  "  THROUGH  BLOOD  AND 
IRON  ;'"  ','  TKF  WILD  ROSE,"  ETC. 


RKVISKD  KDITION. 


CANTON,  OHIO: 
CASSIDY,  BOOK  AND  JOB  PRINTER. 

1887. 


COPYRIGHT. 

188-7. 


TflBLE  OF  CONTENTS, 


I.  A  SAD  FINALE, 

II.  SKIRMISHES,  ,  13. 

III.  THE  MAINE  BATTLE,  26. 

IV.  CONQUEST.  36. 

V.  THE  SUPERINTENDENT,  46. 

VI.  DEVELOPMENTS.  57. 

VII.  THE  TEMPTER.  68. 

VIII.  AN  ADVENTURE,  74. 

IX.  FLUCTUATIONS,  94. 

X.  ON  THE  TRACK,  106. 

XI.  Two  YEARS  LATER.  115. 

XII.  A-N  ARRIVAL,  121. 

XIII.  A  LETTER,  134. 
YIV.     A  VOICE  FROM  THE  GRAVE,      -  14(5. 

XV.  NEWS  BROUGHT  HOME,  156. 

XVI.  A  CRISIS  APPROACHING,  167. 

XVIII.  A  FAILURE,  178. 

XIX.  IT  NEVER  RAINS  BUT  IT  POURS,  189. 

XX.  WORSE  AND  WORSE,  196. 

XXI.  A  NEW  REIGN,  203. 

XXII.  LOVE  DAWNING,  LOVE  WANING,  207. 

XXIII.  THE  CAVE  AGAIN.  218. 

M12004 


CONTENTS-CONTINUED. 

Y  X I Y .     A  DRIVER  DRIVEN. 

XXV.  SPECULA  TION>. 

XXVI.  A  JOURNEY. 

XXVII.  A  MAN  HUNT,  27(>. 

XXVIII.  A  TRESPASS  ATONED— A  DEIJT  CANCELED,         27U. 

XXIX.  PLANNING  ALL  AROUND,  '^. 

XXX.  (JLIMPSES    EROM    A    DlARY,  292. 

XXXI.  HOME  AOAIN, 

XXXII.  INSTRUCTIONS,  -°»14. 
XXX  III.     THE  MITTEN,  321. 
XXXIV.     HEKJIIT  AND  DEPTH,  320. 
XYXV.     A   PLENIPOTENTIARY,  :>41. 

XXXVI.  A  DECEIVER  DECEIVED,  ;'-r><>. 

XXXVII.  THE  "GREAT  TOUR,"  M". 

XXXVIII.  THE  DIARY  ACJAIN,  :>r>-». 

XXXIX.  A    JpURXEY    AND    ITS    ( \  )NSE<H'  1  -X^  'l^S,  3"1'1- 

XL.    OLD  ACQUAINTANCES, 

XLI.     ALARMIX<:   NKWS,  •     •'•li)- 

XLII.     A    HAPPY   MORNING,  -»or>. 

XLIII.      A    DIKE  CORNERED,  417. 

XLI\\     Tin:  KE  (JALANT  HUOMO.  -J2r>- 

XLY.       CnNd 


DOLORES. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A    SAD    FINALE. 

The  sounds  of  a  barrelorgan  vibrate  through  the  evening  air. 
"Home,  sweet  home"  floats  sweetly  on  the  waves  of  the  breeze  that 
fans  the  face  of  the  pleasant  valley.  The  music  is  in  keeping  with 
the  charming  landscape  which  stretches  from  the  rock-bound  but 
picturesque  and  romantic  coast  of  Maine,  but  the  musician  is  not ; 
and  the  glance  we  cast  on  him  jars  unpleasantly  with  the  feeling  of 
contentment  that  has  imperceptibly  stolen  over  us.  The  man  is 
evidently  a  foreigner,  a  native  of  the  sunny  land  that  boasts  of 
Rome  and  Naples,  and  his  pale  careworn  face  shows  plainly  that 
he  is  deeply  sensitive  to  the  tune  he  plays.  Home  !  sweet  home  ! 
Alas  !  no  people  in  the  world  are  so  devotedly  attached  to  their 
native  country  as  the  Italians.  Even  the  most  prosperous  of  that 
race  never  overcome  a  yearning  for  "  beautiful  Italy,"  and  yet  our 
minstrel  does  not  belong  to  Fortune's  favorites.  He  surely  misses 
his  native  country  ;  for  his  hollow  eye  mirrors  a  melancholy  sadness, 
a  pain  intense  to  distraction.  The  fickle,  changing  clime  of  the 
New  World  does  not  agree  with  his  constitution,  and  even  a  care 
less  observer  can  hardly  fail  to  discover  that  consumption,  the  arch 
destroyer  of  America's  youth  and  strength,  has  made  fearful  havoc 
upon  the  musician's  form,  once  so  noble  and  vigorous.  His  cheeks 
are  hollow  though  covered  with  a  treacherous  bloom  ;  his  body  has 
become  emaciated  to  the  thinness  of  a  skeleton,  and  only  his  eyes 
have  retained  their  lustre.  Yes,  they  have  even  gained  in  bril 
liancy,  and  in  connection  with  the  hair  of  raven  blackness  which 


DOLORES. 


surrounds  his  temples  in  rich  profusion,  impart  to  his  face  a  ghastly 
pallor  painful  to  behold.  His  strength  is  gone  ;  for,  though  re 
lieved  of  the  weight  of  the  instrument  by  a  supporting  frame  on 
which  it  stands,  his  hand  turns  the  crank  with  a  languor  inexpress 
ibly  sad.  In  consequence  of  this  the  air,  so  tender  in  itself,  as 
sumes  a  mournful  sadness  apt  to  bring  tears  into  our  eyes.  It  has 
that  effect  at  least  upon  a  little  girl  standing  close  by  the  wander 
ing  minstrel's  side  and  holding  in  a  caressing  manner  his  unengaged 
hand.  She  seems  to  be  about  twelve  years  of  age,  and  a  family  re 
semblance  lets  us  guess  the  relation  of  father  and  daughter  between 
the  two.  She  has  his  black  waving  tresses  and  the  large  lucid  eye, 
though  the  color  of  the  latter  is  more  of  a  bluish  than  a  blackish 
tint. 

The  child  is  poorly  clad  as  is  the  man,  and  the  tattered  dress  of 
faded  silk  half  covers,  half  reveals  a  body  of  perfect  proportions, 
but  yet  too  angular  for  our  ideas  of  beauty.  The  frock  only 
reaches  to  the  knee,  leaving  the  limb  beneath  it  and  the  foot  ex 
posed.  The  child  presses  her  father's  hand  with  earnest  devotion 
to  her  cheek  and  the  sad  and  tender  glance  with  which  she  scans 
his  face  betrays  a  depth  of  feeling  and  an  understanding  beyond 
her  years.  Does  she  fully  comprehend  the  precarious  condition  of 
her  father's  health  ?  the  delicacy  of  the  tie  that  unites  them  and 
may  be  ruptured  by  the  first  rough  contact  with  the  world  ?  We 
do  not  know,  but  we  know  that  the  group  before  us,  if  not  of  ideal 
beauty,  is  such  as  the  sculptor  or  painter  likes  to  choose  when  he 
intends  to  remind  us  of  the  frail  mortality  of  our  race. 

The  pair  stands  on  the  highroad  leading  through  one  of  those 
pretty  villages  which  only  New  England  can  show.  One  side  of  it 
is  lined  with  little  cottages,  encased  in  pretty  gardens,  and  the 
other  with  an  iron  railing  enclosing  the  pleasure  grounds  of  a  state 
ly  mansion,  looming  with  grace  and  elegance  from  the  dense  cluster 
of  surrounding  shrubs  and  trees.  Opposite  the  Italian  and  his 
daughter  the  railing  curves  inward,  and  displays  a  handsome  double 
gate  shutting  up  a  broad  well-kept  carriage  drive  whose  sides  are 
adorned  with  gay  flowerbeds  in  full  bloom.  The  road,  running  at 
right  angles  against  the  sea,  is  lost  in  clusters  of  bushes  above 
which  the  blue  expanse  of  water,  dotted  with  distant  sails,  becomes 
visible.  Turning  landward  the  pike  winds  through  a  broad  valley, 


DOLORES.  5 

clotted  with  farmhouses  and  orchards  and  bound  in  the  distance  by 
a  sweeep  of  semi-circular  woodland  ranges  which  with  their  term 
inus  lean  on  the  ocean.  The  road  after  leaving  the  village  passes 
the  buildings  of  a  large  factory,  and  at  length  creeps  over  the  hills, 
looking  like  the  ribbon  with  which  we  tie  a  garland.  The  sun, 
approaching  the  western  sky,  betokens  the  neighborhood  of  the 
evening  hours  whose  freshness  will  pleasantly  relieve  the  intense 
heat  of  a  sultry  summer  day.  From  the  factory  above  mentioned 
a  stream  of  men  and  women  pours  into  the  street,  all  carrying  their 
dinner  buckets,  and  for  the  most  part  wending  their  way  towards 
the  village  and  turning  here  and  there  into  the  houses  lining  the 
way.  Some  of  them  stop,  as  they  come  to  the  minstrel  and  his 
daughter;  they  listen  to  the  plaintive  music  and  then,  with  warm 
compassion,  place  a  coin  in  the  box  which  the  girl  passes  around. 
A  sweet  smile  of  the  little  creature,  and  a  graceful  nod  of  the  head 
thank  them  for  their  charity  and  then  they  part,  reflecting  on  their 
way  on  the  caprice  of  fortune  which  metes  its  favors  out  with  lavish 
hands  to  some,  and  denies  even  the  indispensable  mite  to  others. 

The  little  girl,  however,  hastens  back  to  her  father,  attracted 
by  a  violent  fit  of  coughing  which  threatens  to  put  a  stop  not  only 
to  the  music  but  even  to  the  musician  himself.  The  little  one  has  no 
such  fears,  for,  alas,  she  is  used  to  seeing  her  father  suffer ;  still  she 
knows  that  after  an  attack  like  this  he  needs  her  assistance,  trifling 
as  it  is,  for  he  is  almost  unable  to  stand  on  his  feet.  Indeed,  as 
she  approaches  him,  she  notices  a  tremor  passing  through  his  feeble 
frame  ;  his  hands  rest  on  the  organ  for  support ;  his  head  sinks 
wearily  on  his  breast,  and  from  his  mouth  issues  a  fearful  stream 
of  blood,  taking  away  on  its  currents  the  last  sparks  of  vitality  that 
remained  in  the  wornout  frame. 

A  fearful  shriek  of  the  girl  stops  the  passers-by,  and  hurrying 
near  the  unfortunate  man,  they  come  just  in  time  to  receive  the 
sinking  form  into  their  arms  and  thus  save  it  from  a  rough  fall 
upon  the  ground.  They  carry  him  to  the  green  sward  lining  the 
side  of  the  road  next  to  the  railing  and  busy  themselves  about  him 
with  the  confusion  of  people  not  exactly  knowing  what  to  do. 
While  some  hurry  for  the  doctor,  others  cry  for  water  and  endeavor 
to  stop  the  blood  which  still  continues  to  ooze  from  the  mouth, 
though  with  lessened  violence.  Alas,  the  poor  fellow  had  but  lit- 


6  DOLORES. 

tie  of  the  precious  liquid,  and  the  fountain  drying  up  the  current 
of  course  began  to  slacken.  The  people  around  him  shook  their 
heads  and  with  pitying  countenances  gazed  upon  the  little  girl 
kneeling  at  the  side  of  her  father,  holding  his  hands  in  hers  and 
with  pleading  fervor  calling  on  him  to  return  to  consciousness  and 
to  her.  She  used  a  foreign  tongue,  but  yet  the  crowd  understood 
her,  for  there  is  a  language  which  everybody  comprehends,  the 
language  of  love  and  sadness.  There  were  few  eyes  dry  in  that 
assembly  and  many  seemed  more  affected  than  the  child  itself.  No 
wonder  ;  the  poor  thing  was  half  stupified  and  failed  to  realize  the 
greatness  of  the  loss  in  store  for  her.  The  hemorrhage  had  fright 
ened  her,  but  she  scarcely  understood  the  significance  of  the  symp 
toms.  Her  father  had  suffered  so  much  and  so  long  that  she  failed 
to  comprehend  the  fact  of  his  near  release,  his  deliverance  from  all 
further  trouble. 

Now  the  doctor  made  his  appearance.  He  gazed  a  moment  and 
shook  hi*  head.  Looking  around  on  the  crowd  that  was  increasing 
every  minute,  he  said  : 

"My  friends,  this  man  is  dying;  we  must  take  him  to  some 
shelter.  Is  there  nobody  present  that  lives  close  by  and  is  willing 
to  lend  his  roof  to  a  suffering  fellow-mortal  to  die  in  peace?" 

Several  voices  responded  to  the  call  ;  but  at  this  moment  the 
stamp  of  hoofs  and  the  rolling  of  carriage  wheels  became  audible, 
and  a  minute  afterwards  a  well  dressed  gentleman  accompanied  by 
a  little  gitl  stepped  into  the  circle.  The  crowd  drew  back  respect 
fully  and  from  this  and  other  signs  we  conclude  that  the  new  comer 
holds  a  conspicuous  position  in  the  neighborhood.  He  is  a  portly 
man  of  medium  size,  between  thirty-five  and  forty.  His  dress  is 
of  fine  material  and  fashionable  cut,  but  he  wears  it  with  a  careless 
ease  approaching  slovenliness.  His  face  is  broad  and  good-natured, 
and  as  his  eyes  gaze  upon  the  dying  stranger  they  show  a  sympathy 
and  compassion  that  cannot  help  impressing  us  favorably  as  to  the 
character  of  the  man.  The  only  thing  we  do  not  like  is  the  loose 
ness  of  the  lower  face,  the  want  of  expression  around  the  mouth 
which,  as  psychologists  assure  us,  indicates  a  lack  of  firmness  and 
decision.  The  little  girl  seems  of  the  same  age  as  the  Italian's 
daughter  ;  but  she  is  of  a  very  different  type.  While  the  child  of 
the  south  is  thin,  angular,  with  sun-burnt  skin  and  black  hair,  the 


DOLORES.  7 

new  comer  bears  the  impress  of  the  north.  Her  complexion  is  of 
a  snowy  whiteness,  her  hair  of  a  hue  between  gold  and  flax.  Dim 
ples  adorn  her  chin  and  the  plump  cheeks  over  which  the  glow  of 
health  is  spread  in  a  manner  more  distinct  than  delicate.  Her  lips 
vie  in  color  with  the  cherry  and  the  eyes  are  of  a  light  but  charm 
ing  blue.  The  face  lacks  nothing  but  intellect  to  make  it  attrac 
tive  ;  it  has  the  beauty  of  the  waxen  doll  in  which  we  miss  nothing 
so  much  as  the  absence  of  animation.  Timidly  the  girl  holds  on 
to  her  father's  coat ;  but  as  she  peeps  around  to  see  the  poor  in 
valid,  we  notice  her  father's  expression  of  good  nature  in  her  eyes. 

"Why,  what  is  this,  Doctor?"  asked  the  new  comer,  "What  is 
the  matter  with  the  poor  fellow  ?" 

"A  hemorrhage  of  the  worst  kind,  Mr.  Fox.  I  was  just  trying 
to  get  the  patient  under  shelter.  These  people  volunteered  to  take 
him  to  their  houses. 

"  Just  like  them,  good  and  kind  as  ever.  But  the  man  would 
be  troublesome  to  them  ;  better  take  him  to  my  house.  There  is 
lots  of  room  and  better  accommodations.  John,  just  give  the  reins 
to  Richard  and  come  this  way.  So,  who  else  will  lend  a  hand  ? 
That's  right ;  but  gently  lads,  the  poor  fellow  will  feel  every  move 
ment.  Now  take  him  to  the  house,  lads,  to  the  front  room  in  the 
basement.  And  this  is  his  daughter  ?  Poor  child,  come  give  me 
your  hand.  No  ?  Well,  go  with  your  father  then.  I  reckon  you 
wont  have  him  much  longer  anyhow,  eh,  Doctor  ?" 

' '  I  fear  not,  sir.  The  man  may  once  more  return  to  conscious 
ness,  but  he  cannot  live  much  longer.  He  is  evidently  in  the  last 
stage  of  consumption  and  this  hemorrhage  will  take  him  off." 

"Well,  Doctor,  do  the  best  you  can  for  him  ;  I'll  see  to  the 
payment  of  the  bill.  Jim,  take  that  instrument  off  the  road  and 
put  it  somewhere  out  of  the  way.  Take  care,  that  Mrs.  Fox  don't 
stumble  over  it  tho',  when  she  returns  ;  you  know,  she  don't  like 
vulgar  things." 

"  Yes>  sir,"  the  servant  spoken  to  replied,  accompanying  his  re 
sponse  with  a  knowing  look.  Taking  the  organ,  he  carried  it  to 
the  house,  trying  on  the  road  to  elicit  some  music  from  it  by  turn 
ing  the  crank.  But  the  first  sound  made  him  start ;  it  was  so  much 
out  of  the  way  on  this  sad  occasion  that  Jim  avoided  the  crani[ 


8  DOLORES. 

with  scrupulous  care  and  taking  a  back  door,  executed  the  order  of 
his  master. 

In  the  meantime  the  patient  had  been  deposited  on  the  lounge 
of  a  room  that  bore  the  character  of  something  between  a  library 
and  a  smoking-room.  The  doctor  applied  the  proper  restoratives 
and  after  a  few  minutes  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  him  open  his 
eyes.  The  little  girl  had  not  relinquished  her  father's  hand  for  a 
moment,  and  now  when  she  saw  him  returning  to  consciousness, 
she  uttered  a  cry  of  delight  and  in  her  native  tongue  began  to 
speak  to  him.  The  doctor,  however,  checked  her. 

"My  dear  child,"  he  said,  laying  his  hand  upon  her  shoulder 
and  bending  over  her,  "  you  must  not  trouble  your  father  now,  for 
he  is  very  sick.  If  you  can  be  a  good  girl  and  keep  quiet  for  a 
little  while,  he  may  soon  be  well  enough  to  speak  to  you." 

The  child  listened  attentively  and  showed  by  a  nod  that  she  un 
derstood  the  physician.  It  evidently  cost  her  a  struggle  to  obey  ; 
but  she  conquered  and  regaining  hold  of  her  father's  hand,  relapsed 
into  silence. 

The  patient  also  had  heard  the  doctor  and  evidently  understood 
him.  A  sad  smile  flitted  over  his  features  and  moving  his  lips,  he 
made  an  attempt  to  speak,  but  failed  in  the  effort.  The  doctor 
noticed  it  and  said  : 

"  Keep  still,  my  good  man  ;  you  are  not  strong  enough  to  speak 
yet.  We'll  get  you  something  to  strengthen  you." 

"  Shall  I  send  for  some  wine  ?"  Mr.  Fox  inquired. 

"You  may  as  well.  It  would  hardly  do  to  give  him  wine,  if 
there  was  any  hope  of  recovery  ;  but  there  is  not  and  the  stimulant 
will  enable  the  poor  fellow  to  speak.  He  may  have  something  to 
communicate  to  us  or  to  his  daughter." 

The  wine  was  brought,  a  fiery  sherry,  and  its  effect  upon  the 
dying  man  was  wonderful.  His  look  regained  its  vivacity  and  his 
tongue  the  power  of  speech.  Looking  around  he  seemed  to  scrutin 
ize  the  persons  present  and  at  last  kept  his  gaze  fixed  upon  Mr. 
Fox.  He  seemed  to  guess  that  he  was  the  proprietor  of  the  house 
and  with  a  feeble  gesture  beckoned  him  to  his  side. 

"  You  are  the  master  of  this  house  ?"  he  asked  in  low  tones  and 
a  f  oreigh  accent 

"Yes,  sir,  that  I  am  ;"  Mr.  Fox  responded  with   a  kind  nod, 


DOLORES.  9 

"  and  if  there  is  anything  I  can  do  for  you,  just  let  me  know.  You 
may  be  sure  that  it  shall  be  attended  to." 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  said  the  Italian,  and  a  smile  at  once  sweet 
and  melancholy  passed  over  his  features.  "  You  are  a  gentil  huo- 
mo,  I  know,  and  will  be  kind  to  my  daughter  when  I  am  gone  ?" 

"  Of  course,  sir,  the  girl  shall  be  taken  care  of.  If  nothing  else 
troubles  your  mind,  you  may  die  in  peace." 

The  face  of  the  Italian  showed  a  struggle.     At  last  he  said : 

"  Take  the  portfolio  from  my  pocket,  I  am  too  weak." 

His  wish  Avas  fulfilled  and  an  elegant  diary,  evidently  a  relic  of 
better  days,  produced.  On  seeing  it,  the  stranger's  eye  lit  up  and 
his  face  assumed  an  aspect  of  pride  and  dignity  at  once  sudden  and 
startling. 

"  You  open,"  he  said,  and  Fox,  obeying  his  injunction,  pro 
duced  several  papers  which  he  handed  to  the  patient. 

"  Now  listen,"  said  the  Italian,  making  a  great  effort  to  speak 
clearly  and  concisely  ;  "I  look  like  a  beggar,  but  oh,  I  am  not  an 
ordinary  one.  I  was  once  a  noble  duke  in  my  native  country  ;  but 
wishing  to  free  it  from  the  yoke  of  Austria,  I  joined  an  insurrec 
tion  against  that  power.  We  failed  and  incurred  the  penalty  at 
tached  to  such  attempts.  My  poor  wife  died  in  this  country  from 
want  and  exposure,  and  I  follow  her  from  the  same  cause.  But 
there  is  my  daughter  Dolores — ah  !  truly  has  she  been  named  ;  for 
under  sufferings  she  has  been  reared,  the  last  member  of  a  noble 
race.  What  is  to  become  of  her  ?  Will  she  grow  up  in  ignorance 
and  poverty  ?  Oh  !  how  her  destiny  afflicts  my  dying  hour  !" 

He  stopped,  and  covering  his  face  with  his  hands,  betrayed  by 
groans  and  sighs  the  deepness  of  his  sorrow.  Again  his  daughter 
spoke  to  him  in  Italian,  and  he  listened  to  her  voice,  a^s  if  angels 
had  addressed  him.  Fox  was  deeply  affected  by  this  scene  and 
wishing  to  comfort  the  poor  sufferer,  repeated  his  promise  to  take 
care  of  the  girl  after  her  father's  death.  Still  the  man  seemed  not 
satisfied  ;  but  turning  to  the  owner  of  the  house,  he  said  with  much 
hesitancy  and  indecision  : 

"But  my  daughter  is  the  duchess  of  Gatana  ;  will  you  raise  her 
a  menial,  a  low,  ignorant  servant?" 

"Why  no,"  Fox  replied,  slightly  embarrassed  but  evidently 
wishing  to  spare  the  feelings  of  the  dying  man  ;  "  if  she  is  a  lady 


10  DOLORES. 

she  ought  to  receive  the  education  of  one." 

"Oh  !  God  bless  you  ;  you  take  a  burden  off  my  heart.  And 
you  would  be  so  good  as  to  charge  yourself  with  her  education  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,  I  will,"  said  Fox,  impressed  by  the  earnestness  of  the 
Italian. 

"  You  give  me  the  word  of  a  gentil  liuomoT 

"  If  you  mean  the  word  of  a  gentleman  ;  I  will." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,  thank  you.  You  give  me  ease  and  comfort. 
You  swear  to  do  it  by  this  symbol  ?" 

In  his  eager  efforts  for  his  daughter's  welfare  the  patient's 
strength  had  much  increased  and  he  was  able  to  pull  from  his 
bosom  a  small  but  beautifully  wrought  crucifix  of  gold  and  ebony 
and  to  hold  it  towards  Mr.  Fox,  who  as  a  protestant  was  something 
loth  to  accommodate  himself  to  the  notions  of  a  Catholic.  Still, 
the  look  of  intense  suspense  in  the  eye  of  the  dying  man  was  un 
endurable,  and  wishing  to  convince  him  of  the  sincerity  of  his  in 
tention,  he  laid  his  hand  upon  the  crucifix  and  said  : 

"I  swear." 

Now  the  Italian  seemed  satisfied.  A  deep  tranquillity  spread 
over  his  beautiful  face,  which  seemed  to  have  lost  every  trace  of  the 
fatal  disease  that  had  destroyed  its  owner.  He  took  his  daughter's 
hand  and  said  to  her  : 

"  Dolores,  I  must  leave  you " 

Before  he  could  proceed,  the  impetuous  girl  was  on  her  knees, 
and  laying  her  head  close  to  his,  said  with  a  voice  almost  drowned 
by  sobbing  : 

"No,  father  dear,  you  must  not  leave  poor  Dolores  alone. 
What !  oh  !  what,  is  she  to  do  without  her  dear  father  ?" 

Tears  started  from  her  father's  eye,  but  checking  his  emotion 
with  his  whole  remaining  strength,  he  said  : 

"  I  know  you  will  miss  me,  Dolores  ;  but  you  will  also  get  a 
good  home  and  a  guardian  who  will  provide  for  you,  and  that  you 
know,  your  poor,  sick  father  was  unable  to  do.  I  should  like  to 
live  on  your  account,  my  dearest  child  ;  but  at  the  same  time  I  am 
weary,  so  weary  that  I  delight  to  think  I  shall  soon  sleep  the  long, 
deep  sleep  in  the  cool  ground.  Mourn  for  me  my  daughter,  but 
take  comfort  in  the  thought  that  it  is  all  for  the  best.  Will  my 
strong,  brave  Dolores  promise  this  ?" 


DOLORES.  11 

A  low  "yes,"'  almost  stifled  by  heartrending  sighs,  came  as  an 
answer  from  the  lips  of  the  little  girl. 

1 '  That  is  right,  dear,"  said  her  father,  laying  his  hand  upon  her 
curly  head.  "And  you,  sir,  take  care  of  these  papers.  They  con 
tain  the  marriage  certificate  of  her  parents  and  a  list  of  her  estates. 
True,  they  now  only  exist  on  paper,  for  a  cruel  dynasty  has  snatched 
them  from  her  ;  but  God  is  merciful  and  may  some  day  restore  her 
to  her  rank  and  fortune.  Take  good  care  of  the  papers,  sir." 

Fox  promised  repeatedly  to  fulfil  all  the  injunctions  of  the  suf~ 
ferer  with  unswerving  fidelity,  and  thereby  rendered  his  last  hour 
comparatively  light  and  happy  ;  but  the  excitement  now  passing 
away  left  the  patient  doubly  weak,  and  it  was  evident  to  all  present 
that  his  dissolution  was  fast  approaching.  With  one  of  his  hands 
on  his  daughter's  head  and  the  other  enclosed  in  hers,  he  now  and 
then  whispered  a  word  of  love  and  comfort  into  her  ears,  her  head 
still  resting  close  to  his.  He  could  no  longer  speak  loud  nor  raise 
his  hand  to  beckon  ;  but  an  impressive  glance  meeting  the  eye  of 
Mr.  Fox,  that  gentleman  bent  his  head  to  the  patient's  ear. 

"I  am  happy,"  the  poor  man  whispered,  "and  you  made  me 
so.  Remember  /" 

After  a  while  he  whispered  : 

"Dolores." 

This  was  the  last  word  he  spoke.  When  the  child  raised  her 
head  in  response  to  the  call,  his  eye  was  becoming  fixed,  and  though 
unfamiliar  with  death  she  could  not  mistake  that  the  moment, 
which  would  make  her  an  orphan,  was  at  hand.  Bending  intently 
over  his  face,  she  watched  every  motion  of  his  body.  She  saw  the 
last  tremor  creeping  through  his  limbs,  saw  his  body  stretch  and 
lengthen  and  felt  his  hands  grow  cold  in  hers.  Thus  long  she  has 
repressed  her  grief,  perhaps  in  obedience  to  his  injunction  ;  perhaps 
also  from  the  wish  of  making  his  departure  as  light  and  tranquil 
as  possible.  This  was  surely  a  self-control  beyond  her  years,  but 
then  a  single  look  upon  her  pensive  face  sufficed  to  show  that  she 
was  no  ordinary  child.  Now,  however,  she  indemnified  herself  for 
all  restraint  by  an  abandonment  to  grief  which  much  alarmed  the 
persons  present.  She  cried  and  shrieked  and  writhed  as  if  in  agon 
ies  of  pain.  She  threw  herself  upon  the  dead  body  and  clung  to 
him  with  a  vehemence  that  made  all  efforts  to  withdraw  her  vain. 


12  DOLORES. 

She  seemed  deaf  to  all  persuasions  and  entreaties,  and  for  more* 
than  an  hour  would  suffer  no  interference  between  herself  and  her 
grief.  At  last  she  calmed  down,  more  from  physical  exhaustion 
than  any  abatement  of  her  grief.  She  ceased  to  sob  and  cry  and 
allowed  Mr.  Fox  to  take  her  hand  and  speak  words  of  comfort  and 
consolation  into  her  ear.  She  suffered  his  daughter  to  take  her 
other  hand  and  gently  stroke  it  ;  she  even  raised  her  tear  dimmed 
eyes  to  those  of  the  other  girl  and  looked  into  them  with  a  glance  con 
taining  wonderment,  affection  and  suspicion  in  a  strange  mixture. 
Still,  she  would  not  be  separated  from  the  body,  and  only  when  her 
eyes  had  closed  in  slumber  and  her  repose  had  reached  the  depth  of 
utter  unconsciousness,  so  natural  after  the  exciting  scenes  through 
which  she  had  gone,  Mr.  Fox  was  able  to  take  her  in  his  arms  and 
carry  her  to  a  chamber  on  the  second  floor,  where  a  servant  took 
care  of  her. 

"  Be  kind  to  the  child,  Susan,"  Mr.  Fox  enjoined  upon  her ; 
"make  her  comfortable  with  some  of  Lucy's  dresses  and  put  her 
to  bed.  I  have  to  see  to  matters  down  stairs." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  the  girl  replied,  but  she  also  looked  after  him  with 
the  queer  look  we  noticed  on  the  face  of  Master  Jim,  when  that 
worthy  carried  the  organ  in.  Yet  she  obeyed  his  order,  and  taking 
the  sleeping  child  into  the  room,  layed  her  on  a  bed  and  undressed 
her  as  gently  as  she  could.  Lucy  stood  by  and  watched  the  opera 
tion  with  considerable  interest. 

11  Susan,"  she  asked,   "  she  is  to  stay  with  us,  is  she  ?" 

Susan  winced  under  the  question. 

"  Indeed,  Lucy,  that's  more'n  I  can  tell." 

' '  Father  says  so  at  any  rate." 

The  servant  shrugged  her  shoulders,  a  gesture  meaning  perhaps 
as  much  as  :  "  What  of  that  ?"  But  she  said  nothing. 

"Her  name  is  Dolores,"  the  child  said;  "do  you  think  it  a 
pretty  name  ?" 

"  No,  Lucy,  I  don't,  nor  the  child  either  for  that  matter.  She 
looks  so  outlandish." 

"  But  I  like  her,  Susan." 

"You  do?  well,  I  know  somebody  that  wont,  I  bet." 

"  You  mean  Richard  ?  I  know  he  doesn't  like  her,  for  he  told 
me  so  and  called  her  a  Gipsy." 


DOLORES.  13 

"  Did  he  ?  well  I  think  your  mother  wont  like  her  any  better. 
Law's  me,  what  a  fuss  she'll  make  when  she  finds  the  brat  here." 

By  this  time  Dolores  had  been  undressed  and  provided  with  one 
of  Lucy's  nightgowns,  and  as  she  lay  upon  the  snowy  pillow,  her 
ringlets  contrasting  strangely  with  the  pallor  of  her  face,  on  which 
the  traces  of  recent  grief  were  still  impressed,  she  formed  a  sight 
well  calculated  to  soften  any  heart.  The  servant  girl's  was  soft 
ened,  but  she  left  the  room  with  a  shake  of  her  head  and  a  dubious 
glance  in  her  homely  face — what  could  it  mean  ? 


CHAPTER  II. 

SKIRMISHES. 

The  funeral  was  over.  While  Dolores  slept  the  sleep  of  ex 
haustion,  Mr.  Fox  had  made  all  necessary  preparations.  A  plain 
coffin  had  been  ordered  and  delivered  at  the  break  of  dawn  the 
next  morning,  while  Dolores  was  still  sleeping.  The  body  had  been 
laid  into  the  coffin  and  everything  prepared  for  the  last  rites  with 
out  her  knowledge.  For  a  moment  Mr.  Fox  had  oeen  doubtful  as 
to  the  propriety  of  waking  Dolores,  to  let  her  join  it ;  but  at  last 
he  had  concluded  that  it  would  be  cruel  to  deprive  her  of  this  last 
chance  of  seeing  her  dead  father.  Sad  as  the  ceremony  would  be 
for  her,  she  would  at  least  fully  realize  her  loss  and  be  more  in 
clined  to  adapt  herself  to  the  situation.  So  she  had  been  wakened 
and  dressed  by  Susan,  who  had  revived  the  recollection  of  last 
night's  occurrences  as  gently  as  her  somewhat  rude  nature  would 
permit.  At  first,  on  wakening,  Dolores  had  threatened  to  rebel  • 
but  no  sooner  had  the  knowledge  of  the  past  returned  to  her  mind 
than  she  at  once  submitted  to  the  girl's  directions  and,  as  it  were, 
relapsed  into  apathy,  suffering  Susan  to  dress  and  conduct  her  to 
the  funeral-chamber  much  like  an  automaton.  Only  on  seeing  her 
father  in  the  coffin,  she  had  rushed  to  his  side  with  a  wildness  that 
threatened  a  repetition  of  last  night's  scene.  She  had  grasped  his 
icy  hands,  loudly  called  his  name  and  hiding  her  head  upon  his 
breast,  moaned  aloud.  Yet  no  tear  had  entered  her  eyes,  and  after 
a  few  minutes  she  had  gained  sufficient  self-possession  to  follow  the 


14  DOLORES. 

admonitions  of  Mr.  Fox,  who  had  kindly  taken  her  hand,  assuring 
her  that  he  would  be  a  father  to  her  and  informing  her  that  they 
were  now  going  to  take  her  father's  remains  to  his  last  resting  place. 
Sitting  in  a  carriage  at  his  side  she  had  attended  the  funeral,  and 
in  the  graveyard  behaved  with  a  composure  remarkable  for  her 
years.  There  is  something  repugnant  in  death  and  in  a  corpse,  es 
pecially  to  children,  and  the  form  we  loved  so  much  when  animated 
tills  us  with  a  secret  awe,  when  life  has  once  departed.  This  is  a 
wise  provision  of  nature,  and  Dolores  now  benefitted  by  it ;  tho'  it 
would  have  been  hard  to  tell,  even  for  more  penetrating  eyes  than 
those  of  Mr.  Fox,  whether  the  composure  of  the  little  girl  was  the 
result  of  self-control  or  of  an  abatement  of  the  grief  with  which 
she  mourned  her  father's  death. 

Now  they  were  back  in  the  villa,  and  from  Mr.  Fox's  abstracted 
manner  it  was  evident  that  he  was  pondering  upon  the  sudden  death 
of  the  musician  and  the  new  duties  it  had  imposed  upon  him.  He 
called  his  daughter,  bidding  her  to  take  the  little  stranger  into  the 
garden  and  show  her  the  place,  and  when  she  had  obeyed  him,  and 
taking  Dolores  by  the  hand,  departed  from  the  room,  he  paced  the 
floor  in  a  manner  not  at  all  in  keeping  with  the  ease  and  non 
chalance  so  plainly  depicted  on  his  good-natured  face.  On  the  con 
trary  he  seemed  extremely  nervous,  and  the  hands  which  were 
folded  on  the  back  twitched  and  worked  in  a  manner  almost  dan 
gerous  to  the  safety  of  the  fingers.  At  length  Mr.  Fox  stopped, 
and  opening  the  door  called  in  a  loud  voice : 

"Susan!" 

' '  Yes,  sir,"  the  menial  responded,  and  a  moment  afterwards 
made  her  appearance  at  the  door,  wiping  her  hands  on  her  apron 
and  holding  its  corner  even  after  the  operation  had  been  finished. 
"  What  may  you  be  wishing,  sir  ?" 

"  Well,  Susan,"  Fox  addressed  her,  coming  to  a  dead  stop  in 
his  walk  and  trying  to  look  unconcerned,  "  I  called  you  in  to  speak 
to  you  about  this  little  girl.  I  suppose  you  know  that  1  promised 
her  father  to  take  care  of  her,  do  you  ?" 

"  Well,  yes  ;  I  think  I  did  hear,  sir." 

"Now,  then,  as  a  man  of  my  word,  I  mean  to  stick  to  that 
promise  ;  but  the  question  is,  what  had  we  better  do  with  her  ?" 

"  Indeed,  sir,  you  ought  to  know  best." 


DOLORES.  15 

"Well,  s©  I  do,  Susan  ;  still,  however,  it  will  do  no  harm  to- 
give  me  your  opinion  about  it." 

"But,  sir,  indeed  I  hain't  any  ;  unless  you  let  her  sleep  with  me 
and  give  her  to  the  kitchen  girl  to  help  her  sweepin  and  scrubbin 
and  runnin  errands." 

Mr.  Fox  looked  amazed. 

"Sweeping  and  scrubbing?"  he  exclaimed,  "why,  Susan,  don't 
you  know  she  is  a " 

"A  what?"  the  servant  inquired,  when  he  stopped. 

But  Mr.  Fox  would  not  tell.  He  feared  to  be  ridiculed,  if  he 
hinted  at  the  pi  etended  high  station  of  his  ward.  So  he  said  : 

"Never  mind  ;  only  I  promised  her  father  not  to  let  her  serve,, 
but  bring  her  up  a  lady  and  give  her  a  good  education." 

Susan  struggled  between  astonishment  and  indignation.  The 
low  and  ignorant  will  pardon  their  superiors  for  possessing  rank  and 
wealth,  but  woe  to  their  equal  who  endeavors  to  better  his  condi 
tion  and  rise  above  their  level — they  will  never  pardon  him.  Susan 
had  in  her  way  taken  a  liking  for  the  orphan  ;  but  the  words  of  her 
master  effectually  destroyed  it,  and  at  that  moment  she  hated  her. 
What !  a  little  beggar  girl  to  be  taken,  and  flattered  and  caressed 
and  be  doted  upon  ?  No  indeed,  Susan  at  least  would  countenance 
no  such  proceedings  and  this  resolution  became  unmistakably  plain 
in  her  miens  and  words,  as  she  replied : 

"An  edication  ?  Who  ever  heard  the  like  !  I  wonder  how  Mrs. 
Fox  will  fancy  that." 

With  these  words  Susan  had  evidently  played  a  trump  ;  for  Mr. 
Fox  winced  and  showed  some  hesitancy,  when  he  said  : 

"Why  shouldn't  she  fancy  it  ?  As  a  good  Christian  she  cannot 
but  laud  my  good  intentions." 

The  girl  said  nothing,  but  plucked  the  corner  of  her  apron.  Mr. 
Fox,  however,  at  once  recollected  that,  if  Mrs.  Fox  did  object, 
Susan  surely  was  not  the  person  to  whom  he  had  to  account  for  his 
actions  ;  so  he  said  with  a  good  deal  of  resolution  : 

'  'As  I  said  before,  the  girl  must  be  cared  for.  She  needs  gar 
ments  of  all  descriptions,  and  until  they  can  be  procured  some  of 
Lucy's  dresses  will  answer.  Don't  you  think  they'll  tit  her  ?" 

"They  may,  for  all  I  know,  tho'  its  hard  to  say  how  Mrs.  Fox 
will  take  it." 


16  DOLORKS. 

Mr.  Fox  did  not  reply  to  this  ;  but  ignoring  it,  resumed  : 

"If  I  recollect  right,  the  little  room  above  the  kitchen  is  un 
occupied." 

"So  it  is,  sir  ;  but— 

"And  it  is  furnished  for  a  sleeping-room?" 
."  There  is  a  bed  there  and  a  washstand  ;  but  I  guess 

"  Then  it  will  answer  to  put  little  Dolores  there.  I  charge  you, 
Susan,  to  see  that  everything  is  done  to  make  her  comfortable." 

Susan  was  sorely  vexed,  and  she  couldn't  for  her  life  quit  the 
room  without  showing  it  and  making  an  attempt  at  rebelling 
against  her  master's  orders.  Past  experience  must  have  shown  her 
the  feasibility  of  such  a  conduct,  or  she  would  perhaps  not  have 
risked  the  experiment. 

"  You  must  excuse  my  gainsaying,  Mr.  Fox,"  she  said,  pluck 
ing  her  apron  with  greater  zest  than  before  and  coloring  a  little, 
either  from  vexation  or  excitement,  "  but  it  strikes  me,  sir,  that 
Mrs.  Fox  will  never  give  in  to  such  an  arrangement.  She  is  look 
ing  for  a  second  cook,  I  heard  her  say,  and  wants  the  room  to  put 
her  in." 

"  She  does?"  Mr.  Fox  replied  ;  "well,  if  that  is  the  case,  we 
must  not  interfere.  We  can  put  Dolores  as  well  in  the  corner  room 
above  the  parlor." 

"  But  that  is  a  spare-room  for  visitors,  and  I  heard  Mrs.  Fox 
say  us  how  she  expected  lots  of  friends  soon." 

"  Did  she  say  so  ?  Well  then  there  is  the  little  chamber  next  to 
mine  ;  that  is  a  cozy  little  room  and  not  wanted,  I  am  sure." 

At  this  suggestion  Susan  became  still  more  excited.  Letting 
her  apron  go  and  placing  her  arms  akimbo,  she  cried  : 

"  Mr.  Fox,  you  don't  mean  that?  The  best,  costliest  room  in 
the  whole  house  for  this  little  brat  of  a  beggar  ?  Mrs.  Fox  will  be 
delighted  to  see  her  silk  spreads  soiled  Jby  her  dirty  fingers." 

Mr.  Fox  received  this  new  objection  with  a  patience  showing 
that  he  possessed  an  unusual  stock  of  that  virtue.  Having  reflected 
a  while,  he  resumed  : 

"You  women  are  dreadfully  particular,  I  know,  and  I  don't  like 
to  cross  your  arrangements,  if  I  can  help  it.  If  all  these  rooms 
don't  answer,  I  know  but  one  more  and  that  is  the  closet  next  to 


DOLORES.  17 

Lucy's  room.  I  looked  in  yesterday  and  noticed  it  to  be  just  ready 
to  receive  an  inmate." 

Susan  shook  her  head. 

' '  The  Missus  won't  like  a  strange  beggar  child  so  near  her 
darling  I  am  sure,"  she  said.  "  Nobody  knows  what  sort  of  a  per 
son  she  is,  and  she  might  play  all  sorts  of  tricks  on  poor  Lucy  be 
fore  we'd  know." 

This  last  argument  was  the  best  she  had  thus  far  advanced  ;  but 
yet  it  irritated  Mr.  Fox,  and  perhaps  for  that  very  reason.  We  are 
apt  to  get  excited  just  in  proportion  to  our  antagonist's  success  in 
warding  off  our  thrusts.  So  Susan  accomplished  by  good  sense 
what  she  had  failed  to  accomplish  by  nonsense,  though  surely 
against  her  will,  namely,  the  rousing  of  her  master's  ire.  To  judge 
by  her  surprise  and  consternation  the  sight  must  have  been  perfectly 
novel  to  her.  With  open  mouth  she  stared  at  him,  as  he  said  : 

"  Nonsense,  Susan  !  I  am  getting  tired  of  your  subterfuges  and 
want  no  more  of  them.  I  thought  you  had  a  better  heart  than  to 
try  ousting  a  poor  lonely  child  that  never  harmed  you.  I  want  to 
be  obeyed  without  further  parlance  ;  do  you  understand  ?  I  don't 
care  what  room  you  fix,  but  I  want  you  to  fix  one  and  that  at  once. 
Begone,  I  say,  and  let  me  hear  no  more  of  this.  If  I  find  that  the 
child's  comfort  is  neglected,  I'll  make  you  rue  it.  Don't  stare  at 
me,  but  go." 

The  reader  will  perceive  that  Mr.  Fox  had  nicely  worked  him 
self  into  a  rage.  That  is  the  way  with  many  a  timid  man,  though 
we  are  far  from  imputing  cowardice  to  Mr.  Fox,  and  they  won't 
take  heart,  until  they  hear  their  own  voice  cheering  them  up.  Mr. 
Fox  was  cheered  by  his  ;  he  seemed  to  like  himself  in  this  new 
character  much  better  than  Susan  did.  She  was  dumbfounded 
with  surprise  and  without  the  utterance  of  even  a  syllable  left  the 
room  to  do  his  bidding.  Mr.  Fox,  however,  resumed  his  walk  ;  he 
might  as  well  benefit  by  his  excitement  in  making  the  floor  tremble 
under  his  firm  and  energetic  step,  therein  imitating  the  engineer 
who  makes  the  paddles  fly  while  steam  is  up. 

"These  womenfolks  are  intolerable  with  their  "  buts  "  and  "  ifs" 
The  deuce  may  take  them  all,  not  excepting — (here  Mr.  Fox  low 
ered  his  voice  and  cast  a  cautious  glance  around  him) — Mrs.  Fox. 
When  a  fellow  wants  to  be  comfortable,  they  come  with  their  brooms 


18  DOLORES. 

and  scrubbing  brushes  ;  when  he  wants  to  be  sociable  they  pout  and 
stick  up  their  noses  ;  when  he  desires  to  be  left  alone,  they  make 
his  head  swim  with  their  gibberish  and  when  he  wants  to  act  like 
a  Christian  they  come  and  prove  that  he  is  worse  than  a  heathen. 
I  shouldn't  wonder  at  all  if  Mrs.  Fox  would  do  that  very  thing. 
I  wish  she  was  back  and  the  whole  thing  over,  for  come  it  will,  that 
is  more  than  sure.  She'll  try  to  make  me  send  this  poor  little  thing 
to  the  poor-house  and  persuade  me  in  the  bargain  that  nothing  will 
be  more  calculated  to  advance  her  welfare.  But,  Mrs.  Fox,  you'll 
try  in  vain  this  time.  I  have  given  my  word  and  even  sworn  to 
take  care  of  the  girl,  and  I  shall  do  it  in  the  face  of  all  opposition. 
Still,  they  will  make  me  very  uncomfortable  and  the  little  one  too, 
I  fear.  Where  may  she  be  ?  I  must  go*  and  hunt  her  up,  for  some 
how  the  little  one  has  bewitched  me  with  her  deep  sensible  eyes 
and  the  quiet  way  in  which  she  bears  her  loss." 

Mr.  Fox  left  the  house  and  stepped  into  the  park,  but  just  as 
he  was  turning  the  corner  of  the  house,  the  person  he  sought  came 
running  towards  him  with  every  sign  of  the  greatest  excitement. 
Her  eyes  were  flashing  fire,  her  little  hands  were  clentched  and  the 
lips  firmly  pressed  together.  Without  heeding  Mr.  Fox,  she  was 
on  the  point  of  hastening  by  him,  when  that  gentleman  with  a 
voice  expressing  tenderness  and  surprise  called  ner  name. 

"  Dolores  !    Little  one  !  what  is  the  matter? 

Now,  Mr.  Fox  had  not  at  all  what  we  call  a  musical  voice.  It 
was  rather  common,  if  not  rough  ;  but  it  isn't  always  the  quality  of 
the  voice  that  makes  it  find  the  way  to  the  hearer's  heart ;  it  is  the 
feeling  which  dictates  the  words.  Now,  Mr.  Fox  was  one  of  the 
very  few  who  had  ever  spoken  kindly  to  Dolores  ;  moreover,  he  had 
spoken  kindly  at  the  very  moment  when  she  needed  kindness  most, 
and  is  it  strange  that  the  image  of  her  benefactor  had  engraved  it 
self  into  her  heart ;  that  the  tone  of  his  voice  fell  pleasantly  on  her 
ear  ?  It  failed  not  to  affect  her  even  in  the  state  of  feverish  ex 
citement  whose  prey  she  was,  and  stopping  short  in  response  to  his 
call,  she  said  with  a  trembling  voice  : 

"  I  want  to  go  away,  sir.  You  are  kind  to  me  ;  but  the  others 
are  not ;  your  people  sneer  at  me  whenever  they  look  at  me,  and 
that  boy  has  struck  me  and  called  me  a  Gipsy.  I  am  no  Gipsy  and 
I'll  go  away  where  I  need  not  hear  it  any  more.  You  are  good  to 


DOLORES.  19 

me,  sir,  and  Dolores  thanks  you  very  much." 

After  these  words  that  had  been  poured  into  the  ear  of  Mr. 
Fox  with  a  rapidity  calculated  to  bewilder  anybody,  Dolores  had 
stepped  up  to  him  and  kissed  his  hand.  Then  turning  she  had 
again  commenced  her  hasty  flight,  when  another  exclamation  from 
his  mouth  stopped  her  a  second  time. 

"Dolores!" 

This  time  he  spoke  more  tenderly  yet  and  although  surprise  was 
still  manifest,  his  voice  bore  the  character  of  reproach.  The  girl 
stopped  at  once,  but  she  did  not  turn  ;  hanging  her  head  and  work 
ing  her  hands  in  a  restless  manner,  she  awaited  his  further  address. 

He  went  up  to  her,  and  taking  one  of  her  hands  into  his  own, 
led  her  to  a  part  of  the  park  where  dense  undergrowth  limited  the 
view,  but  was  also  calculated  to  conceal  the  couple.  No  word  was 
said  on  either  side,  until  they  reached  a  seat  overhung  by  flower 
ing  shrubs  and  climbing  plants,  a  snug,  cozy  place.  Mr.  Fox  sat 
down  and  drew  the  girl  to  his  side,  but  neither  of  them  noticed  the 
beauty  of  the  place. 

"  Now,  little  one,"  Mr.  Fox  began,  "  repeat  to  me  what  you  said 
before  ;  but  .say  it  slowly  ;  you  perfectly  drowned  me  before  with 
your  hurried  charges." 

But  by  this  time  Dolores  had  cooled  down  a  little  and  now  felt 
the  repugnance  innate  to  noble  nature  to  play  informer.  She  hes 
itated  and  stammered  and  it  was  only  by  dint  of  perseverance  and 
numerous  questions  that  Mr.  Fox  elicited  the  truth  from  her.  It 
was  this :  While  walking  with  Lucy  in  the  park  and  garden  she 
had  suffered  the  rough  contact  with  persons  either  ill-disposed  or 
void  of  sensibility  who,  by  their  sneers  and  covert  allusions  or  their 
uncouth  sympathy,  had  deeply  wounded  her  feelings.  Still  she  had 
borne  it  all  and  taken  comfort  from  the  even  kindness  and  gentle 
ness  of  her  companion.  She,  at  least,  had  done  nothing  to  hurt 
her  sensitive  companion,  though  her  calm  and  perhaps  shallow  na 
ture  had  on  the  other  hand  also  prevented  her  from  making  rapid 
advances  to  affection  and  intimacy.  Then  followed  the  scene  which 
had  so  deeply  stirred  the  ire  in  the  girl's  bosom  and  whose  very  re 
cital  even  now  made  her  tremble  with  agitation.  Walking  on  one 
of  the  roads  that  wound  through  the  groves  of  the  park,  they  had 
on  a  sharp  bend  suddenly  come  upon  a  boy  whom  Lucy  addressed 


20  DOLOR  KS. 

as  her  brother,  but  who  with  scornful  laugh  had  declined  all  inter 
course  with  a  lu-iiar  brat.  To  this  word  Dolores  relunctantly  con 
fessed,  insinuating  shyly  that  many  others  of  a  worse  character  had 
been  used.  However,  she  had  not  borne  them  all  with  tame  indif 
ference,  but  stepping  boldly  up  to  the  young  ruffian's  face  had 
parried  his  thrusts  with  so  much  skill  that  in  his  vexatious  disap 
pointment  he  had  lowered  himself  to  the  mean  act  of  striking  a 
feeble  little  girl.  This  act  it  was  that  had  made  her  temper  run 
away  with  her  and  would  perhaps  have  driven  her  from  her  pro 
tector's  roof,  if  he  had  not  opportunely  intercepted  her  flight.  He 
now  sat  silent,  no  doubt  deeply  annoyed  at  the  dishonorable  course 
of  one  he  called  his  son.  Dolores  saw  it  and  wishing  to  comfort 
him,  she  told  him  with  a  cheering  voice  that  she  did  not  mind  it 
any  longer  and  begged  him  not  to  think  about  it  any  more. 

Fox  was  deeply  touched  by  this  display  of  generosity  and  the 
liking  he  had  from  the  beginning  felt  for  this  little  girl  fast  ripened 
into  a  warm  affection.  Drawing  her  closely  to  his  side  he  said  : 

1 '  Little  one,  I  see,  I  have  not  wasted  my  fostering  care  upon 
an  unworthy  object.  What  I  promised  to  your  father  from  a  feel 
ing  of  Christian  dut}r,  I  now  pledge  to  you  from  true  and  sincere 
affection.  Will  you  in  all  respects,  in  the  full  sense  of  the  word 
be  my  dear  and  loving  daughter  ?" 

The  child  nestled  closely  to  his  side,  her  face  assuming  a  happy 
expression  and  lovingly  she  whispered  : 

-I  will." 

"Well,  then,  our  compact  has  been  duly  made  and  ratified; 
but,  Dolores,  my  power  to  protect  you  goes  only  a  certain  way. 
Of  course,  that  booby  of  a  boy  shall  no  longer  abuse  you,  nor  the 
servants  jeer  you  ;  but  there  is  a  power  to  abuse  which  being^  indi 
rect  and  only  in  tone  and  expression  lies  beyond  my  control  and 
from  which  I  cannot  shelter  you.  Alas!  poor  child,  many  will  be 
the  instance?*  where  the  world  jars  upon  a  high  strung  character, 
and  I  would  be  false  to  my  trust  to  persuade  you  to  the  belief  that 
such  trials  will  be  spared  you  in  my  house.  Forewarned  is  fore 
armed  and  I  want  you  from  this  present  moment  to  form  the  reso 
lution  of  meeting  all  such  low  attacks  with  calm  indifference.  Do 
you  understand  me,  Dolores?" 

"I  think  I  do,  sir" 


DOLORES.  21 

"I  knew  you  would.  I  knew  from  the  first  sight  that  you  are 
a  little  lady  in  every  sense  of  the  word  and  that  induced  me  to  be 
friend  you.  Yes,  my  good  girl,  you  will  have  many  an  unpleasant 
hour  in  this,  my  house,  from  which  even  I  cannot  save  you  ;  but 
will  you  recollect  at  such  periods  that  I  am  and  always  shall  be 
your  true  and  sincere  friend  and  father?" 

"  I  will,  sir." 

And  will  you  recollect  that  I  can  perhaps  protect  you  best,  when 
I  seem  least  disposed  to  do  so  ?  May  be  I  expect  more  of  your 
penetration  than  your  years  would  warrant  ?" 

"No,  sir,  I  know  well  what  you  mean.  Seeming  to  care  but 
little  about  me,  you  will  make  the  others  let  me  alone." 

Fox  looked  at  the  little  creature  with  surprise. 

"  God  tempers  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb  and  gives  cunning 
to  the  worm,"  he  said  earnestly.  "Yes,  Dolores,  I  see  you  are 
prudent  above  your  years,  and  having  hinted  so  much  I  may  as  well 
go  a  step  further.  Mrs.  Fox,  you  know,  my  wife " 

He  hesitated,  and  the  little  girl  noticing  his  embarrassment, 
hastened  to  reply  : 

"  Say  nothing  more,  Mr.  Fox.  That  naughty  boy,  I  mean  your 
son  Richard,  said  something  that  made  me  think  his  mother  would 
not  be  kind  to  me.  I  do  not  know,  why  it  is  ;  but  I  feel  that  it  will 
be  so.  Still  I  shall  not  mind  it,  Mr.  Fox,  or  rather  I  shall  try  hard 
to  make  her  Jove  me  too,  just  for  your  sake,  Mr.  Fox,  and  because 
you  are  so  good  to  me." 

Tears  started  to  his  eyes.  His  affection  for  this  little  creature 
increased  wonderfully  and  threatened  to  equal  and  outstrip  the  love 
he  bore  to  his  own  children.  Richard  often  annoyed  him  by  his 
numerous  failings  and  Lucy,  though  a  good  child,  was  hardly  bright 
and  lively  enough  to  awaken  strong  affections  even  in  a  parent. 
In  this  child  Fox  had  for  the  first  time  found  his  ideal  realized  and 
therefore  involuntarily  opened  to  her  the  fountains  of  a  heart  which 
he  was  perhaps  often  enough  compelled  to  close  up.  His  feeling 
was  moreover  increased  by  the  readiness  with  which  Dolores  adapt 
ed  herself  to  circumstances,  and  to  say  that  he  felt  grateful  for  the 
indulgence  which  she  had  promised  to  Mrs.  Fox's  caprices,  would 
be  stating  the  case  but  very  feebly.  A  load  was  taken  off  his  mind 
and  he  began  to  look  with  different  feelings  towards  the  hour  that 


22  DOLORES. 

would  bring  back  his  wife.  The  marriage  of  Mr.  Fox  and  his  lady 
were  not  exactly  what  we  term  an  unhappy  one ;  but  this  was  merely 
due  to  the  husband's  consideration,  his  easy  disposition  and  the 
happy  humor  with  which  he  adapted  himself  to  all  her  notions.  If 
he  had  been  as  head-strong,  as  he  was  kind  and  tolerant,  that  term 
would  have  found  its  application  in  its  worst  definition.  As  it  was 
Mr.  Fox  yielded  the  point  in  almost  every  instance,  and  the  reader 
will  therefore  find  Miss  Susan's  wonderment  fully  justified,  when  he 
for  the  first  time  in  her  experience  showed  proofs  of  a  will  of  his 
own.  But  to  return  to  the  pair  under  the  elder  bush.  Mr.  Fox 
drew  the  girl  tenderly  to  his  heart  and  holding  her  in  a  firm  em 
brace,  said: 

"  Dolores,  my  dear  child,  little  did  1  dream  what  treasure  I 
should  receive  in  you  when  I  promised  to  your  father  what  Christian 
charity  compelled  me  to  promise.  I  confess  I  felt  uneasy  when  I 
thought  of  your  first  meeting  with  Mrs.  Fox  ;  but  your  assurance 
fully  eases  my  mind  on  that  score.  Perhaps  our  fears  are  unground 
ed  and  she  may  for  once  pull  evenly  with  me.  Nor  will  I  advise 
you  how  to  behave  to  her  ;  your  own  good  sense  will  tell  you  bet 
ter  than  words  of  mine  could  do.  And  now  let  us  part ;  it  will  be 
best  from  the  beginning,  if  wre  avoid  any  show  of  great  familiarity  ; 
but  never  for  a  moment  forget,  my  child,  that  I  love  you  dearly 
and  always  shall  love  you  with  unchanging  fidelity.  If  any  one 
should  dare  to  annoy  you  beyond  endurance,  come  to  me  at  once, 
no  matter  from  what  party  the  annoyance  comes.  I  shall  stand  by 
you  on  such  occasions ;  but  if  they  let  you  alone  and  only  now  and 
then  by  word  or  look  betray  their  littleness  of  soul — well,  then  let 
it  go,  my  child  ;  remember  that  by  resenting  every  little  annoy 
ance,  we  would  annoy  ourselves  more  than  our  evil  wishers  and 
destroy  that  even  tenor  of  our  lives  which  constitutes  our  hap 
piness." 

Mr.  Fox  arose,  still  leading  by  the  hand  the  little  girl  he  had 
taken  to  the  seat  and  yet  a  different  creature.  Grasping  firmly  the 
hand  of  her  protector,  she  walked  beside  him  with  a  step  that  hardly 
touched  the  ground.  Fox  noticed  with  satisfaction  the  buoyancy 
of  her  spirits. 

"  Dolores,"  he  began  again,  "  we  had  to  talk  so  much  that  I  for 
got  to  ask  how  you  stand  with  Lucy?" 


DOLOKES.  23 

"Oh  !  very  well  indeed  !  She  is  so  good  and  gentle  ;  I  shall 
always  like  her  very  much." 

"I  am  glad  of  it,  for  Lucy  is  really  a  good  girl  and  will  un 
doubtedly  return  your  affections." 

Dolores  shook  her  head. 

' '  I  don't  know,  sir,  how  that  will  be.  Supposing  her  mother 
forbids  her  to  love  me  ?" 

Fox  was  again  startled  at  her  keen  perception  of  the  situation. 
Still  he  smiled  and  said  : 

"Love  can  neither  be  commanded  nor  forbidden,  child.  There 
fore  try  to  win  the  love  of  Lucy  and  nobody  can  deprive  you  of 
it." 

"  But  she  may  be  forbidden  to  show  her  love." 

"That  is  true  ;  but  we  would  nevertheless  gain  an  ally  to  our 
party  and  have  so  much  more  prospect  of  a  final  victory." 

Dolores  smiled.  Near  the  house  the  two  parted,  and  while  the 
girl  sought  her  foster  sister,  Mr.  Fox  turned  his  steps  towards  the 
stable,  where  he  was  almost  always  sure  to  find  his  son.  Richard 
loved  horses  better  than  books  and  understood  the  merits  of  a  racer 
better  than  those  of  a  lecture.  In  town,  during  winter,  Mr.  Fox 
enforced  a  strict  attendance  of  both  his  children  at  school,  and 
at  first  had  even  brought  a  governess  to  his  country  residence,  to 
keep  up,  if  not  improve,  their  knowledge  ;  but  Richard's  conduct 
had  always  made  her  stay  of  short  duration,  and  as  Mrs.  Fox  took 
his  part  and  pretended  that  studying  in  the  heat  of  summer  did  not 
agree  with  her  son,  her  husband  had  yielded  for  the  sake  of  peace 
and  lately  allowed  the  children  the  whole  summer  for  play  and 
recreation. 

On  reaching  the  stable,  he  found  his  boy  engaged  in  an  eager 
conversation  with  John,  the  coachman.  The  subject  seemed  to 
please  the  speaker  and  the  listener  equally  well,  for  Mr.  Fox  heard 
frequent  shouts  of  laughter,  and  the  name  of  "  Gipsy"  repeatedly 
struck  his  ear. 

"  Richard,  step  this  way,"  he  said,   "  I  want  to  speak  to  you." 

The  boy,  a  lad  of  some  fourteen  or  fifteen  years,  was  a  little 

startled  on  hearing  his  name  so  unexpectedly  called  ;  but  turning 

around  and  recognizing  his  father,  he  quickly  regained  his  com- 


24  DOLORES. 

posure,  and  resuming  his  former  position  with  his  back  towards 
Mr.  Fox,  answered  : 

"I  will  after  awhile  ;  I  am  just  helping  John  a  little." 

Now  the  boy  had  no  doubt  many  a  time  disobeyed  his  father 
without  any  manifest  evil  effects  to  himself;  but  if  he  expected  to 
get  off  as  well  on  this  occasion,  he  was  much  mistaken.  Before  he 
was  aware  of  it,  his  father's  hand  was  upon  him,  seizing  him  by 
the  collar  of  his  jacket  and  wheeling  him  with  a  vigor  that  made 
him  spin  like  a  top  until  he  finally  stopped,  confronting  the  angry 
brow  of  his  father.  He  was  out  of  breath,  but  apparently  more 
with  surprise  than  with  exercise.  This  energetic  action  of  Mr.  Fox 
was  probably  as  strange  to  him  as  another  manifestation  of  it  had 
been  to  Susan.  Yes,  so  little  could  he  realize  it  that  for  a  moment 
he  took  it  for  a  joke,  and,  assuming  an  air  of  injured  dignity,  said 
with  a  brusque  voice  : 

"What  do  you  mean,  sir?" 

"  You  are  of  very  dull  comprehension,"  Mr.  Fox  sternly  replied, 
"  and  it  is  well  for  you  that  I  set  down  your  impudence  to  account 
of  your  stupidity." 

The  boy  still  stared  at  his  father,  but  by  this  time  he  began  to 
realize  that  the  whirl  had  been  applied  in  good  earnest.  John,  the 
coachman,  had  also  come  to  this  conclusion  and,  therefore,  retreated 
to  a  safer  distance  ;  but  having  reached  what  he  considered  a  secure 
corner,  he  imitated  his  young  master,  and  with  dilated  eyes  and 
mouth  gave  way  to  his  unqualified  astonishment  in  the  shape  of  a 
hopeless  stare. 

"Still,  I  desire  to  be  understood  hereafter,  sir,"  Mr.  Fox  re 
sumed,  and  therefore  advise  you  to  listen  with  due  attention  to 
what  I  have  to  say.  If  ever  I  hear  of  a  repetition  of  the  dastardly 
act  against  Dolores  of  which  you  are  guilty ;  moreover,  if  in  the 
least  way,  by  word,  look  or  act  you  dare  to  molest  her,  I  shall  pun 
ish  you  in  a  manner  that  will  make  you  rue  the  hour  when  you 
took  it  into  your  head  to  disregard  your  father's  order.  Do  you 
understand  me,  sir  ?" 

Sullen  silence  on  the  part  of  Master  Richard.  Making  another 
step  towards  the  boy,  Mr.  Fox  repeated  the  question  with  a  sharper 
tone. 

' '  I  want  to  know  whether  you  understand  me  ?" 


DOLOKES.  25 

This  time  a  morose  ' '  yes  !"  came  from  the  boy's  lips. 
"  Very  well,  I  am  glad  to  know  it ;  and  John,  I  want  you  to 
witness  his  reply.      He  understands  me.      Now,  sir,  begone  !  and 
don't  appear  before  my  eyes  until  you  have  learned  to  know  that 
no  true  gentleman  ever  strikes  a  woman.     Begone,  sir  !" 

Stupified,  but  appearently  cowed,  the  boy  left  the  stable,  and 
John,  considering  his  corner  no  longer  safe,  was  on  the  point  of 
beating  a  retreat,  when  Mr.  Fox's  voice  arrested  him. 
-John!" 

-Yes,  sir!"  the  response  came  quicker  arid  more  respectfully 
than  it  had  ever  issued  from  the  coachman's  mouth,  and  that  indi 
vidual  appeared  before  his  master  with  an  awkwardness  showing 
plainly  that  his  conscience  was  far  from  easy  and  that  he  did  not 
know  exactly  what  was  in  store  for  him. 

"  You  have  seen  Dolores,  the  ittle  girl  whose  father  died  in 
this  house  yesterday  ?" 
"Yes,  sir!" 

' '  You  know  that  she  is  henceforth  to  be  regarded  and  treated 
like  a  member  of  my  family  ?" 

"  Well,  sure,  sir,  I  didn't  know  exactly." 

' '  Mind  it  then  that  such  is  the  case.  You  have  witnessed  my 
order  to  Richard  regarding  his  conduct  towards  the  girl ;  well,  what 
I  forbid  my  children,  I  shall  surely  not  allow  my  servants.  I  want 
you  and  all  the  rest  to  treat  Dolores  with  due  respect,  or  in  case  of 
a  contrary  conduct  be  prepared  to  quit  my  service.  Will  you  have 
the  goodness  to  communicate  these  matters  to  your  comrades  as 
well  as  the  female  servants  of  the  house  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  was  the  reply  of  the  perplexed  coachman. 
"Thank  you,  John,   that  is  all.     I  suppose  you  know  that  you 
have  to  drive  to  the  depot  this  evening  for  Mrs.  Fox  ?     I  expect 
her  on  the  six  o'clock  train." 

"  So  the  children  tells  me,"  John  replied  with  returning  assur 
ance,  feeling  evidently  like  a  man  that  has  gone  through  a  severe 
thunder  storm  without  being  struck  by  the  lightning.  "  I  was  jist 
gittin'  ready,  when  yer  Honor  came  in  the  stable." 

' '  Very  well,  start  in  time  ;  you  know  Mrs.  Fox  don't  like  to  be 
kept  waiting." 

With  these  words  Mr.  Fox  returned  to  the  house.     He  went  to 


26  DOLORES. 

his  room,  but  if  he  had  gone  into  the  basement  instead,  he  could 
have  witnessed  a  considerable  excitement  produced  by  John's  com 
munications  which  that  worthy  of  course  hastened  to  make  with 
out  delay.  He  overdrew  his  masters  passion,  if  anything,  and  de 
lighted  in  frightening  the  servant  girls  by  emphasizing  the  strict 
ness  of  the  order.  In  this  he  was  successful  ;  for  though  they  pre 
tended  to  treat  the  whole  matter  very  lightly,  they  were  really 
frightened  by  the  unexpected  fierceness  of  a  man  whom  they  had 
accustomed  themselves  to  consider  void  of  all  elements  calculated 
to  produce  such  emotions.  They  all  valued  their  places  in  his 
household ;  for  they  were  well  treated  and  well  paid,  and  therefore 
resolved  to  comply  with  his  demands  as  far  as  outward  show  was 
concerned.  But  though  there  were  no  communication  son  the  sub 
ject  among  them,  there  was  not  a  servant  in  that  house  that  day 
who  did  not  secretly  vow  to  Wm — or  herself,  that  the  beggar  girl 
should  pay  for  this." 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    MAIN    BATTLE. 

Supper  was  over.  Mr.  Fox  was  sitting  in  his  arm  chair  on  the 
portico  and  the  two  girls  occupied  a  lounge  in  his  neighborhood. 
He  had  missed  Richard  at  the  meal,  but  abstained  from  asking 
.  questions,  because  he  guessed  the  boy's  whereabouts.  True,  John 
had  driven  alone  from  the  mansion  ;  but  Richard  had,  so  thought 
his  father,  joined  him  on  the  road,  to  be  the  first  to  see  his  mother 
and  pour  into  her  ear  a  colored  story  of  everything  that  had  tran 
spired  in  the  house  during  her  absence.  His  thoughts  kept  him 
silent,  and  imitating  his  example,  the  girls  also  said  but  little  and 
that  little  in  a  whisper.  All  at  once  the  sound  of  wheels  became 
audible  on  the  road  and  a  moment  afterwards  an  open  carriage 
drove  up  before  the  house.  At  the  first  sound  Fox  had  arisen  and 
in  that  position  he  awaited  the  arrival  of  his  wife.  There  she  sat, 
^richly  attired,  and  at  her  side  her  son,  thus  verifying  his  father's 
supposition.  His  wife,  then,  knew  everything,  and  that  perhaps 
was  well ;  for  it  saved  him  the  trouble  of  breaking  the  news  to  her 


DOLORES.  .          27 

and  allowed  him  to  act  on  the  defensive  in  the  conflict  which,  as 
he  knew,  was  sure  to  come. 

When  the  carriage  stopped,  Lucy  and  her  father  stood  waiting 
at  the  door  to  assist  Mrs.  Fox  in  alighting,  while  Dolores  had  re 
mained  at  the  top  of  the  stairs,  secretly  trembling  at  the  thought 
of  meeting  the  woman  whom  she  had  good  reason  to  consider  the 
arbiter  of  her  fate,  the  person  in  whose  power  it  lay  to  make  her 
happy  or  miserable. 

On  reaching  the  ground  Mrs.  Fox  stooped  to  kiss  her  daughter, 
taking  good  care  not  derange  her  splendid  toilet ;  then  raising  her 
self  again  she  answered  her  husband's  "good  evening"  and  "welcome 
home"  with  a  gracious  nod,  and  laying  her  gloved  hand  into  his  ex 
tended  right,  vouchsafed  to  him  a  condescending  smile.  Mrs.  Fox 
was  a  handsome  woman,  some  might  have  called  her  beautiful ;  but 
it  was  the  beauty  of  the  marble  and  like  it,  cold.  Even  her  smile 
would  not  light  it  up  nor  take  from  those  large  gray  eyes  the  sharp 
stinging  look  that  made  Dolores  shrink  when  they  rapidly  glanced 
over  the  house  and  for  a  moment  dwelled  on  her  figure.  With 
stately  bearing  the  lady  swept  up  the  flight  of  stairs  leading  to  the 
portico,  refusing  her  husband's  assistance,  and  stepping  on  the  plat 
form  with  a  mien  that  seemed  to  say  :  ' '  This  is  my  realm  and  I 
am  queen  of  it  !"  Passing  Dolores  and  pretending  now  to  get  the 
first  sight  of  her,  she  stopped  a  moment  and  said  coldly  : 

•  'Ah  !  whom  have  we  here  ?  I  suppose  it  is  the  little  girl  my 
son  told  me  about.  Edward,  have  you  already  instructed  Susan  to 
assign  her  such  duties  in  the  servant's  department  as  will  suit  her 
capacity  ?" 

Mr.  Fox  hesitated  a  moment  before  he  answered.  He  had  hard 
ly  expected  that  she  would  begin  the  battle  so  soon,  or  that  she 
would  open  it  with  a  battery  of  such  heavy  cailber.  Generally 
her  tactics  consisted  in  light  skirmishes  and  ambuscades,  from  which 
she  would  fall  upon  an  ungarded  point  of  his  position  and  capture 
him  before  he  was  aware  of  it.  This  time  she  evidently  preferred 
an  open  fight,  perhaps  provoked  by  the  magnitude  of  his  offense. 
True,  her  face  showed  not  the  slightest  evidence  of  vexation  ;  but 
then  Mr.  Fox  knew  very  well  that  these  placid  features  were  not 
always  a  certain  index  to  the  feelings  underneath  ;  that,  while  the 
mouth  could  smile,  a  sea  of  rage  could  heave  and  surge  and  seathe 


28  DOLORES. 

below  the  glassy  surface.  It  might  be  so  this  time  and  Mr.  Fox 
wa<  inclined  to  consider  this  rather  fortunate  ;  for  an  excited  foe 
rarely  resorts  to  feints  and  wiles  and  false  attacks.  At  any  rate, 
he  resolved  to  meet  the  issue  fairly  and  squarely,  and  knowing  the 
danger  of  yielding  the  slightest  point,  replied  : 

"I  have  not,  Caroline  ;  nor  is  it  my  intention  to  do  it  at  all." 

"  Well,  there  you  are  right,"  she  answered  with  a  smile  ;  "this 
is  properly  my  province  and  I  shall  attend  to  it.  Here,  my  little 
girl ;  I'll  gi\  e  you  a  chance  of  showing  your  docility  ;  take  these 
things  of  mine  and  put  them  on  the  rack." 

Dolores  with  a  willing  hand  stepped  forward  to  do  the  lady's 
bidding,  but  the  voice  of  Mr.  Fox  at  once  arrested  her. 

"Stop  a  moment,  Dolores,"  he  said,  with  his  face  slightly  col 
oring  up ;  "  you  are  hardly  strong  and  skilled  enough  for  this  and 
might  drop  the  shawl.  There  is  Susan  coming  who  can  do  the  job 
a  great  deal  better.  Susan,  take  your  mistress'  things  and  put 
them  away." 

"You  haven't  had  your  supper  yet,  Caroline,  have  you?" 

"  No,  sir,"  his  wife  replied,  biting  her  lip,  but  in  no  other  way 
showing  herself  vexed  at  the  manoeuver  with  which  he  had  parried 
her  thrust,  "  I  haven't  had  anything  worth  speaking  of  since  we 
left  the  city  this  morning." 

"Well,  you  had  better  have  a  bite  then,  before  you  change 
your  dress.  I  ordered  Susan  to  have  supper  ready  for  you." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  Mrs.  Fox  replied,  and  in  his  company  and 
that  of  her  children  descended  into  the  dining-room.  There  she 
seated  herself  at  the  table  in  company  with  her  son  who  for  the 
sake  of  meeting  her,  or  may  be  for  other  reasons,  had  foregone  his 
supper. 

"Poor  boy!"  his  mother  said  caressingly,  "  missed  his  supper 
for  mother's  sake.  Well,  it  will  now  taste  doubly  good  in  my  com 
pany" 

Susan  had  brought  tea  and  was  going  to  serve  at  the  table,  when 
Mrs.  Fox  interrupted  her. 

"  Susan,"  she  said,  "you  must  be  very  busy  and  I  hate  to  im 
pose  on  you.  Supposing  you  go  on  with  your  work  and  send  me 
the  little  girl  from  the  porch.  This  surely  is  an  easy  task  and  she 
may  as  well  relieve  you  of  this  extra  labor.  I  am  not  hard  to 


DOLORES.  29 

please  and  if  she  is  not  perfect  all  at  once,  she  certainly  will  do 
better  after  a  while." 

Susan  spoke  her  "yes  ma'm"  with  a  slight  embarrassment,  cast 
ing  a  furtive  glance  at  her  master  before  she  turned  to  go.  Before 
she  reached  the  door  his  voice  stopped  her  : 

"  Susan,"  he  said  with  a  laugh,  "  I  am  afraid  Dolores  would 
make  a  botch  of  it.  You  better  leave  her  where  she  is  and  if  you 
are  really  busy  elsewhere,  Lucy  and  I  will  do  the  waiting.  My 
little  girl  will  certainly  delight  in  waiting  upon  her  mother." 

This  was  said  so  definitely  though  in  a  pleasant  manner,  that 
Susan  dared  not  disregard  it ;  but  with  her  stereotyped  '  'yes,  sir," 
left  the  room  without  any  other  comfort  than  the  exchange  of  a 
significant  look  with  her  mistress. 

That  lady  was  evidently  the  prey  of  unpleasant  sensations. 
Twice  in  the  period  of  half  an  hour  she  had  been  foiled  and  con 
tradicted  by  a  husband  on  whos'e  record  such  things  were  entirely 
unknown.  True,  Richard  had  faithfully  chronicled  the  astound 
ing  display  of  energy  which  Mr.  Fox  had  lately  been  guilty  of ; 
but  that  was  to  children  and  servants.  She  doubted  not  that  the 
very  sight  of  her  would  suffice  to  crush  in  the  bud  the  struggle  for 
independence  her  husband  seemed  inclined  to  make.  His  down 
right  contradiction  therefore  on  two  occasions  and  the  ready  obedi 
ence  he  found  with  the  servants,  at  once  irritated  and  alarmed  her. 
Yet  his  opposition  to  her  wishes  had  been  so  considerate,  so  entire 
ly  in  the  limits  of  politeness  and  good  breeding  that  she  was  de 
prived  of  any  chance  whatever  of  putting  in  the  powerful  levers 
with  which  she  had  always  carried  her  point.  She  was  still  un 
certain  as  to  the  best  course  to  pursue,  when  Mr.  Fox  changed  his 
tactics,  and  benefiting  by  the  advantage  he  had  gained,  assumed 
the  offensive. 

"Caroline,"  he  said  as  quietly  and  politely  as  he  could,  "the 
servants  being  absent,  I  may  as  well  seize  the  opportunity  of  recti 
fying  an  error  under  which  you  seem  to  labor  in  regard  to  this  lit 
tle  girl.  I  thought  Richard  had  already  explained  her  case." — Mr. 
Fox  looked  sharply  at  the  boy  who  dropped  his  eyes  and  blushed 
under  his  gaze — "but  it  seems  I  have  been  mistaken  and  have 
therefore  to  enlighten  you  respecting  her  case.  Her  father  who 
died  yesterday  under  this  roof  exacted  a  promise  from  me  to  take 


30  DOLORES. 

care  of  the  child  and  to  educate  her  in  a  manner  becoming  her 
position." 

Here  Mr.  Fox  hesitated  a  little.  He  probably  felt  that  from 
a  prudent,  worldly  point  of  view,  he  had  given  a  rather  hasty 
pledge,  and  that  by  the  adherence  to  it  he  would  expose  himself  to 
the  ridicule  of  the  scoffers.  Mrs.  Fox  saw  her  advantage  and 
feigning  an  unbounded  surprise  exclaimed  : 

"  But,  Mr.  Fox,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  this.  Can  it 
barely  be  possible  that  you,  the  experienced  business  man,  should 
have  suffered  yourself  to  be  imposed  upon  ?  Position  indeed  !  pray 
what  rank  does  this  protege  of  yours  hold  ?" 

Mr.  Fox  slightly  colored.  This  was  another  weak  point  of  his 
case,  and  he  felt  the  keen  reluctance  of  the  republican,  to  appear 
captivated'  by  the  lustre  of  rank  and  station.  For  that  reason  he 
merely  replied :  , 

"  Her  father  left  me  papers  proving  that  she  belongs  to  one  of 
the  first  noble  families  of  Italy." 

Mrs.  Fox  laughed,  but  if  she  could  have  heard  how  ugly  that 
laughter  sounded,  she  would  have  been  less  prone  to  indulge  in  her 
merriment. 

"Noble  families  indeed  !"  she  sneered,  "pray,  if  her  father  was 
of  such  high  rank,  why  did  he  beg  his  bread  in  the  streets  ?" 

In  making  this  inquiry  Mrs.  Fox  betrayed  a  knowledge  which 
she  had  formerly  denied.  But  ;this  slight  inconsistancy  escaped 
observation  in  the  ardor  of  the  fight  and  without  alluding  to  it  Mr. 
Fox  replied : 

' '  Because  he  joined  a  conspiracy  against  the  house  of  Austria 
and  on  discovery  had  to  flee  for  his  life." 

Another  outburst  of  merriment,  holding  the  middle  between 
a  laugh  and  a  sneer. 

"The  old  story  of  the  political  refugee  !  I  must  confess,  I  have 
never  yet  seen  an  Italian  who  was  not  at  least  a  duke  and  had  not 
taken  part  in  some  dreadful  conspiracy." 

Mr.  Fox  remained  silent.  He  felt  that  he  lost  ground,  and  his 
wife  seeing  her  advantage,  was  not  slow  to  follow  it  up. 

"Indeed,  Mr.  Fox,  I  am  not  only  perfectly  thunderstruck  at 
the  credulity  with  which  you  have  fallen  a  prey  to  the  machina- 


DOLORES.  31 

tions  of  these  people.  I  should  have  expected  more  of  one  of  your 
experience." 

Mr.  Fox  got  somewhat  nettled  at  these  taunts. 

"  You  show  little  charity,  Mrs.  Fox,  in  excluding  from  your 
explanations  even  the  possibility  of  the  poor  fellow's  honesty.  A 
hemorrhage  is  generally  no  trick  in  the  role  of  imposters  and  peo 
ple  are  apt  to  speak  the  truth  when  they  seal  their  statements  with 
their  death." 

There  was  no  gain  saying  this  and  Mrs.  Fox  knew  it  and  there 
fore  changed  her  front. 

''Even  admitting  that  the  man  was  honest,"  she  argued,  being 
careful  to  preserve  a  show  of  fairness  in  word  and  expression,  "was 
it  not  inconsiderate  in  you  to  make  the  promise  ?" 

"  Not  to  my  knowledge,  madam." 

"Well  then,  let  me  explain.  It  was  not  very  considerate  to 
impose  a  new  burden  on  me  without  consulting  my  wishes." 

' '  I  was  not  aware  that  you  were  a  heavily  burdened  woman. 
If  you  want  more  help,  a  word  will  suffice  to  procure  it." 

' '  It  isn't  help  I  want,  sir.  Help  cannot  do  everything.  If  I 
were  to  act  the  mother  to  this  girl,  a  hundred  duties  would  arise 
which  I  could  not  shift  upon  other  shoulders.  But  that  is  not  all. 
You  were  even  more  inconsiderate  to  the  girl  than  to  your  wife  in 
making  that  promise." 

"  You  love  to  speak  in  riddles,  madam." 

' '  Indeed  I  do  not ;  nothing  can  be  plainer.  You  agreed  to  raise 
this  little  girl  a  lady  and  wrhen  you  have  done  so,  what  is  to  become 
of  her  ?  Do  you  intend  to  shorten  your  own  children  s  inherit 
ance  by  bestowing  upon  the  strange  girl  a  fortune  that  will  enable 
her  to  live  in  conformity  with  her  education?  Or  wilFyou  cast 
her  off  after  having  given  her  a  taste  for  enjoyments  which  will 
never  be  hers  ?  That  is  not  only  inconsiderateness,  it  is  down 
right  cruelty." 

Mr.  Fox  felt  the  force  of  these  objections  ;  but  he  also  felt  that 
they  covered  the  extreme  limits  of  the  case.  Moreover,  he  felt 
that  his  wife  reasoned  very  cleverly  at  the  expense  of  her  feelings, 
and  that  in  doing  a  good  deed  it  will  never  do  to  contemplate  dis 
tant  unfavorable  possibilities  and  thus  suffer  ourselves  to  be  pre 
vented  from  executing  it.  Lastly,  however,  all  these  fine  reason- 


32  DOLORES. 

ings  were  totally  useless  and  unseasonable,  because  not  only  by  his 
word  but  even  by  his  oath  he  was  pledged  to  the  fulfilment  of  his 
promise.  This  he  intimated  to  his  wife  in  plain  words,  begging  her 
to  receive  the  case  as  a  fixed  fact  and  to  accommodate  herself  to  cir 
cumstances  which  it  was  out  of  his  power  to  alter.  But  if  he  had 
expected  a  ready  compliance  to  this  request,  he  was  evidently  much 
mistaken.  Mrs.  Fox  not  only  refused  to  yield  the  point,  but  see- 
ino-  that  calm  reasoning  would  fail  to  answer,  she  at  once  entered 
the  field  with  declamations  and  protestations,  with  tears  and  la 
mentations,  in  short,  with  all  the  powerful  weapons  at  the  disposal 
of  the  female  sex. 

"So  you  really  mean  to  say,  Edward,  that  you  will  adhere  to 
this  foolish  project  ?" 

"  Why,  Caroline,  you  are  too  good  a  Christian  to  desire  that  I 
should  perjure  myself." 

"That,  sir,  you  have  to  settle  with  your  conscience.  It  wasn't 
J  who  advised  such  silly  pledges,  and  you  can  surely  not  expect 
that  I  should  consider  myself  bound  by  your  vows  ?" 

"  I  do  expect  that  you  will  respect  them  and  do  nothing  to  in 
terfere  with  their  fulfilment." 

"  But  what  am  I  to  do  with  this  beggar  child  ?  You  do  not  ex 
pect  that  I  and  my  children  shall  associate  with  her  on  terms  of 
equality  ?" 

"I  merely  hope  that  you  will  do  nothing  to  make  her  life  in  my 
house  a  burden.  As  to  the  rest,  I  shall  take  everything  upon  my 
self." 

"And  this  creature,  this  beggar  girl  is  to  be  about  me,  a  foreign 
element  to  interfere  with  my  designs,  destroy  my  comfort  and  spy 
my  actions  ?  No,  sir,  I  shall  never  consent  to  such  an  arrange 
ment,  and  I  warn  you  from  the  first  that  I  shall  do  all  in  my  power 
to  rid  myself  of  this  girl  whom  I  cannot  see  in  any  other  light  then 
th:tt  of  an  intruder  and  annoyance." 

With  these  words  Mrs.  Fox  arose,  and  sweeping  with  the  dig 
nity  of  an  offended  queen  across  the  room,  had  reached  the  door, 
when  her  husband  bade  her  stop  a  moment. 

"Caroline,"  he  said,  I  hope  you  will  think  better  of  this  after 
calm  reflection  ;  but  if  you  should  not ;  if  you  should  insist  upon 
crossing  my  wishes  in  this  respect,  I  hope  you  will  at  least  limit 


DOLORES.  33 

your  opposition  to  passive  resistance.  Any  direct  interference  with 
my  orders,  any  attempt  to  incite  my  children  or  servants  to  a  re 
bellion  against  my  dispositions,  will  compel  me  to  use  my  rights 
and  powers  as  the  master  of  this  house.  You  know  I  hate  disputes 
and  you  can  easily  avoid  them.  Let  me  hope  then  that  this  dis 
agreeable  subject  will  never  be  revived  between  us." 

Mrs.  Fox  disdained  to  reply  ;  she  hardly  awaited  the  end  of  his 
remarks,  but  leaving  the  room  and  slamming  the  door  with  un- 
lady-like  vehemence,  went  up  stairs  and  retiring  to  her  room,  be 
came  invisible  for  the  rest  of  the  evening.  Her  children,  however, 
were  summoned  to  her  presence  to  receive  instructions  ;  but  while 
Lucy  was  merely  strictly  forbidden  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
the  "beggar  girl,"  her  son  was  taken  into  her  more  intimate  con 
fidence.  He  remained  closeted  with  her  for  quite  a  length  of  time 
and  when  he  reappeared  it  was  with  a  malignant  joy  on  his  face 
and  a  triumphant  scowl  which  he  hardly  thought  necessary  to  con 
ceal. 

Mr.  Fox  was  the  last  to  leave  the  dining-room.  He  ascended 
the  stairs  with  a  heavy  heart  and  when  he  stepped  on  the  portico, 
where  Dolores  had  been  waiting  in  painful  suspense,  a  deep  sigh 
betrayed  to  her  at  once  that  the  interview  had  not  furthered  her  in 
terests.  Mr.  Fox  laid  his  hand  on  her  head,  but  he  said  nothing, 
and  with  a  vacant  stare  gazed  before  him.  Only  when  Dolores 
caught  his  other  hand  and  caressingly  laid  it  against  her  cheek,  he 
looked  down  upon  her  with  a  mournful  smile,  saying  merely  : 

"Poor  child!" 

' '  Mrs.  Fox  don't  like  me  ?"  Dolores  asked  shyly. 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  She  hates  me  very  much." 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  think  she  does  ;  at  least  she  did  not  say  so." 

"  But  she  does  not  want  me  in  the  house  ?" 

"  It  is  hard  to  say,  child,  what  she  wants,"  he  answered  with  a 
shade  of  vexation  in  his  tone,  hardly  remembering  to  whom  he 
spoke. 

After  a  while  Dolores  resumed  : 

"It  will  make  you  miserable,  Mr.  Fox,  to  have  her  be  angry 
with  you  ?" 


:)4  DOLORES. 

Mr.  Fox  started  and  looked  troubled. 

"  I  hardly  know,  child,  for  I  am  used  to  it.  True,  I  try  to 
avoid  such  things,  but  if  they  can't  be  helped  they  have  to  be 
borne." 

"  But  they  might  be  helped,"  Dolores  suggested. 

He  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"  How,  child  ?"  he  asked  abruptly. 

"  If  you  send  me  away,"  she  said,  dropping  her  head  and  speak 
ing  so  softly  that  he  could  scarcely  hear  her. 

He  was  deeply  moved  at  such  self-denial.  Drawing  her  into 
his  embrace  and  kissing  her  forehead,  he  said  quickly  and  with 
decision  : 

"  Do  not  mention  it  again,  for  it  is  out  of  the  question.  You 
are  worth  a  dozen  like  her  and  at  such  a  price  I  will  not  purchase 
peace." 

Releasing  her  and  taking  a  chair  he  mused  a  while  and  then 
resumed  : 

"  But  I  am  selfish,  Dolores  ;  I  forgot  that  you  must  suffer  more 
in  such  a  feud  than  I." 

She  shook  her  head.  • 

"  I  shall  be  sorry  to  displease  her,"  she  said,  ''but  then  I  know 
that  you  love  me  and  that  will  make  me  not  mind  it." 

"Are  you  sure  of  that,  Dolores?" 

"Very  sure." 

"  Well,  then,  let  us  weather  it  as  well  as  we  can.  If  she  refuses 
to  be  a  mother  to  you,  I'll  have  to  be  both  father  and  mother,  that's 
all.  Come,  child  ;lt  is  late  and  I  must  see  whether  Susan  has  done 
my  bidding  and  prepared  you  a  room  to  sleep  in." 

Taking  her  hand,  he  led  her  into  the  basement,  where  Susan 
was  still  busy  washing  dishes  and  making  preparations  for  to-mor 
row's  breakfast." 

"  Is  the  room  ready  I  ordered,  Susan  ?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

' '  Show  us  to  it,  then." 

Susan  led  them  up  a  pair  of  back  stairs  and  opened  the  door  of 
the  room  above  the  kitchen  about  which  she  had  made  so  much 
fuss  a  few  hours  ago. 


DOLORES.  35 

' '  That  will  do,  Susan,  you  may  go." 

'  *  Shan't  I  assist  the  miss  to  undress  ?" 

Before  Mr.  Fox  could  reply,  Dolores  said  in  a  pleasant  way  : 

"Thank  you,  Susan,  1  can  do  very  well  alone.  I  thank  you 
for  fixing  this  room  so  nicely  for  me." 

If  Susan  appreciated  her  thanks,  she  did  not  show  it ;  but  leav 
ing  the  room  returned  to  her  sphere  of  business. 

"And  you  really  want  no  help,  Dolores  ?" 

"Indeed,  Mr.  Fox,  I  do  not.  Since  my  mother's  death  I  had 
nobody  to  assist  me  and  then,  you  know,  if  I  had  had  help,  why  it 
wouldn't  have  done  me  any  good,  because  I  had  no  clothes  to 
change." 

This  was  said  half  sadly  and  half  jokingly  ;  but  Mr.  Fox  was 
more  affected  by  the  sadness  than  the  joke ;  so  he  said  : 

"  Poor  little  one!  Clothes  shall  never  fail  you  again  if  I  can 
help  it,  nor  help  either,  if  you  need  it.  Still,  if  you  can  get  along 
alone,  it  will  be  so  much  the  better  and  spare  Susan's  dignity. 
There  is  a  great  deal  in  management,  and  I  am  sure  my  little  Do 
lores  will  know  how  to  manage." 

"  I  hope  I  shall,  sir  ;  at  least  I  shall  try  very  hard  to  make  them 
love  me." 

"They  must  be  monsters,  if  you  do  not  succeed  at  last.  But 
now,  good  night,  Dolores  ;  I  shall  wait  outside  until  you  are  in 
bed." 

He  took  her  hand,  and  when  she  held  up  her  little  face  to  him, 
pressed  a  tender  kiss  upon  her  lips.  Poor  thing  !  perhaps  it  had 
been  her  habit  to  offer  that  tribute  of  affection  to  her  father,  and 
now  in  the  yearning  for  love,  so  general  in  children,  she  bestowed 
it  upon  the  man  who  had  given  her  parent  a  decent  burial  and 
shown  her  more  kindness  than  she  could  recollect  to  have  received 
on  her  whole  dreary  journey  through  life.  Then  Mr.  Fox  left  the 
room  and  patiently  stood  sentinel  at  the  door,  until  Dolores'  voice 
informed  him  that  she  had  safely  reached  the  haven  in  which  she 
was  to  anchor  for  the  night,  a  bed  more  comfortable  and  tidy  than 
she  had  seen  in  all  her  past  experience. 


36  DOLORES. 

CHA1TKK  IV. 
CONQUEST. 

The  next  morning  at  break  of  day  when  Susan  was  kindling  a 
fire  in  the  range,  a  light  hand  was  laid  upon  her  shoulder  and  a 
childish  voice  inquired  : 

"Susan,  may  I  help  you?" 

The  girl  started  and  looking  up  saw  Dolores,  who  being  washed 
and  combed  and  attired  in  a  plain  calico  dress  and  a  white  apron, 
presented  as  pretty  a  picture  as  one  would  want  to  see.  Her  head 
was  bent  a  little,  to  catch  Susan's  eye,  while  from  he  r  own  ema 
nated  a  flood  of  genuine  kindness  truly  captivating.  For  a  moment 
Susan  was  captivated  ;  but  recollecting  that  such  a  speedy  and  un 
conditional  surrender  would  be  disgraceful  and  altogether  humili 
ating  she  checked  the  kind  reply  already  upon  her  lips  and  said 
rather  sharply  : 

"Is  that  you?     What  do  you  want  here  in  the  kitchen?" 

"I  want  to  help  you,  Susan  ;  do  let  me." 

"Nonsense  !  It  won't  do  for  so  fine  a  lady  to  soil  her  fingers. 
Didn't  Mr.  Fox  tell  me  plain  enough  he  didn't  want  you  to  work  ?" 

"  Mr  Fox  meant  kindly.  1  think  he  promised  my  dear  father 
(her  eyes  swam  in  tears  at  the  mention)  to  be  kind  to  me  and  to 
teach  me  to  read  and  write  and  learn  all  sorts  of  things  ;  but  I 
think  he  didn't  mean  I  shouldn't  work  at  all  ;  only  I  shouldn't 
work  all  the  time,  but  learn  a  bit  every  day." 

"  I  don't  know  what  he  meant,  but  I  know  what  he  said." 

"O,  Susan,  do  let  me  help  you  ;  I  love  to  work  so  very  much 
and  you  will  see  I  am  not  quite  so  stupid  as  you  think  me.  I  can 
make  coffee  and  toast  bread,  and  spread  the  table  and  wash  the 
dishes,  and  do  a  great  many  things  beside,  if  you  would  only  let 
me." 

Susan  was  considerably  worried.  She  was  naturally  a  well  dis 
posed  person,  though  somewhat  rough,  and  the  genuine  loveliness 
-  of  the  little  stranger  stole  irresistably  into  her  heart.  Yet  she  re 
sisted  stoutly,  and  the  recollection  of  this  little  beggar  having  been 
exalted  high  above  her  as  yet  sustained  her.  Still  her  voice  had 
no  longer  its  former  roughness,  when  she  said  : 


DOLORES.  37 

"Listen  to  the  child!  I  wonder  where  you  learned  all  the 
things  you  mentioned  ;  may  be  on  the  street  ?" 

Dolores  colored  and  was  evidently  hurt  by  the  blunt  allusion  to 
her  former  wretched  condition  ;  but  she  had  a  purpose,  the  purpose 
of  conquering  these  un genial  spirits,  and  with  a  control  above  her 
years  she  suppressed  her  feelings  and  replied  : 

"  Oh,  Susan,  we  were  not  always  on  the  street.  Some  years  ago, 
when  my  father's  health  was  better  and  my  mother  living,  we  fared 
better  and  had  a  little  home,  and  then  it  was  I  helped  my  dear  ma, 
for  she  was  feeble  and  after  a  while  got  sick  and  grew  worse  and 
worse,  until  at  last  she  died  and  we  had  to  put  her  in  a  coffin  like 
that  of  poor  father.  After  that  he  also  got  sick  and  too  feeble  to 
work,  and  so  he  bought  the  organ  with  the  last  money  he  had  and 
—and—" 

Dolores'  voice  was  completely  drowned  in  the  tears  that  now 
streamed  down  her  cheeks  in  a  torrent,  though  evidently  against 
her  wish.  She  struggled  hard  to  suppress  them  and  after  a  while 
succeeded.  The  cloud  passed  from  her  face  and  she  smiled  with 
double  sweetness  through  the  moisture  that  still  filled  her  eyes. 

Susan  was  more  moved  than  ever.  These  tears  annoyed  her 
very  much,  and  tho'  unwilling  to  comfort  the  girl,  she  thought  she 
could  at  least  do  no  less  than  grant  the  request  whose  original  de 
nial  had  provoked  them. 

"Well,  well,"  she  said  abruptly,  "don't  cry  ;  what  is  the  use  of 
it  ?  If  you  are  bound  to  dirty  your  hands  and  clothes,  you  may 
work,  for  all  I  care.  But  if  the  master  scolds,  I.  hope  you  will  re 
collect  that  it  wasn't  any  of  my  doings  and  that  you  forced  me  into 
it." 

Dolores'  eyes  brightened  visibly.    Clasping  her  hands  she  said : 

"Oh,  you  are  so  good,  Susan,  and  I  shall  love  you  for  it.  I 
know  you  don't  like  me,  Susan,  and  have  made  up  your  mind  not 
to  either.  But,  Susan,  I  shall  be  so  good,  so  vert/  good  to  you  that 
I'll  make  you,  nevertheless." 

A  queer  sensation  crept  over  Susan's  heart.  What  could  it 
mean  ?  Was  this  little  girl  to  make  a  fool  of  her  as  she  had  of 
Mr.  Fox?  It  would  never  do,  no  never  ;  therefore  she  put  an  end 
to  this  dangerous  conversation  by  saying  : 


38  DOLORES. 

"  Law  me,  child,  what  are  you  talking  about.  What  has  put 
such  strange  notions  into  your  head  ?  Come,  come  I  havn't  no 
time  to  dispute  with  you  any  longer.  Here  is  the  coffee  and  there 
is  the  mill  ;  you  may  grind  away  and  I'll  soon  see  what  stuff  you 
are  made  of." 

The  coffee  was  ground  and  the  table  set  for  the  servants  who 
had  their  meal  much  earlier  than  the  family.  When  every  thing 
was  ready,  John  and  Jim  and  Jane,  the  cook,  came  in  and  they 
rivaled  in  staring  at  the  little  girl  and  wondering  what  her  presence 
meant.  But  they  were  soon  to  learn,  for  after  they  had  seated 
themselves  Dolores  bade  Susan  sit  down,  and  on  refusal  forced  her 
on  a  chair  in  a  pleasant,  flattering  way  that  was  irresistible. 

That  much  accomplished,  the  child  brought  the  big  coffee  pot, 
so  big  that  she  had  to  take  both  her  hands  to  hold  it,  and  then 
poured  the  brown  aromatic  beverage  into  their  cups  and  brought 
them  milk  and  sugar  and  bread,  and  her  rapid  eager  eye  discovered 
every  want,  even  before  it  had  made  itself  felt.  At  first  they  did 
not  know  what  to  say,  and  sat  in  rather  an  awkward  silence  ;  but 
Dolores  understood  how  to  make  them  .speak.  She  asked  them 
questions  and  made  remarks  bearing  upon  their  different  occupa 
tions,  showing  a  familiarity  therewith  that  made  them  wonder.  But 
she  succeeded  at  the  same  time  in  dispelling  their  embarrassment 
and,  before  they  knew  it,  the  men  and  women  were  in  a  lively  con 
versation  with  her  and  with  each  other,  and  jokes  and  railleries 
were  taken  and  given,  and  before  the  meal  was  over  John  declared 
she  was  a  little  beauty,  and  Jim  pretended  that  her  smile  made  the 
coffee  sweeter  than  any  sugar.  Even  the  women  had  lost  their 
prejudices  and  made  up  their  mind  to  accept  the  little  stranger  and 
her  position  in  the  house  in  good  grace.  Their  faces  told  Dolores, 
tho'  their  lips  did  not,  and  in  consequence  her  eyes  got  brighter 
and  her  smile  sweeter,  and  she  felt  as  if  she  could  dance  and  em 
brace  the  whole  company,  one  and  all. 

At  this  junction  of  the  affair  Susan  gave  a  start  and  grew  slight 
ly  pale,  for  she  had  looked  through  the  half  open  door  and  seen 
their  master's  face.  But  he  didn't  at  all  look  angry  ;  on  the  con 
trary,  u  irav  smile  rested  en  his  features  and  he  warned  Susan,  by 
raising  his  finger  not  to  betray  his  presence,  and  then  vanished  be 
fore  the  others  had  noticed  him.  When  the  meal  was  over,  Dolores 


DOLORES.  39 

would  not  rest  until  Susan  had  supplied  her  with  a  large  coarse 
apron  to  save  her  clothes  and  then  allowed  her  to  dry  the  dishes  as 
they  came  out  of  the  pan.  Only  when  everything  was  finished 
and  all  traces  of  the  meal  had  been  removed,  would  she  consent  to 
go  up  stairs.  Stepping  upon  the  portico,  she  saw  Mr.  Fox  and 
running  up  to  him,  bade  him  good  morning.  He  replied  in  warm 
tones  and  then  by  questions,  that  seemed  unpremeditated,  elicited 
from  the  child  a  recital  of  her  recent  achievement.  She  was  evi 
dently  proud  of  it  and  he  was  careful  not  to  check  her  ardor.  With 
some  children  a  dangerous  familiarity  with  coarse  characters  might 
have  resulted  from  such  an  intercourse  ;  but  somehow  Mr.  Fox  had 
no  fear  of  this  in  the  case  of  Dolores.  She  had  thus  far  acted  with 
so  much  propriety  that  her  protector  could  not  find  the  heart  to 
blame  or  even  advise  her.  He  abandoned  her  to  that  instinct  of 
propriety  which  seemed  to  be  innate  in  her,  and  this  was  well. 
Moreover  he  rejoiced  at  the  good  impression  which  she  had  made 
upon  the  servants  ;  for  he  well  knew  how  much  even  the  subordin 
ate  members  of  a  household  can  contribute  to  a  person's  happiness 
or  misery.  If  the  servants  loved  his  little  Ifoster-dauglrter,  Mrs. 
Fox  would  in  a  great  measure  be  deprived  of  the  means  of  annoy 
ing  her.  Lucy's  gentleness  disqualified  her  naturally  for  any 
agency  in  such  an  attempt  and  the  hostile  forces  were  therefore  re 
duced  to  his  wife  and  Richard  ;  for  Mr.  Fox  knew  his  boy  well 
enough  to  feel  sure  that  he  would  not  only  second  his  mother  in 
any  measure  against  Dolores,  but  even  delight  in  anything  that  re 
quired  craft  and  cunning  for  its  execution. 

Shortly  afterwards  Richard  and  Lucy  joined  the  pair  on  the 
portico.  They  both  ottered  their  ' '  good  morning ;"  but  after  that 
the  boy  abstained  from  taking  the  slightest  notice  of  Dolores. 
Lucy  behaved  with  her  usual  gentleness ;  but  she  labored  under  a 
constraint  that  was  evidently  inspired.  Mr.  Fox  said  nothing.  He 
knew  well  that  interference  would  only  make  matters  worse,  and 
therefore  allowed  both  his  children  to  conduct  themselves  towards 
Dolores  as  they  pleased,  provided  they  abstained  from  any  direct 
attempts  to  insult  or  hurt  her  feelings. 

The  bell  rang  and  called  the  party  into  the  dining-room,  where 
a  tempting  breakfast  was  set  for  them.  Mrs.  Fox  sent  word  that 
she  would  not  be  present,  pleading  fatigue  from  yesterday's  journey 


40  DOLORES. 

as  an  excuse.  Nobody  but  Richard  seemed  to  regret  this  announce 
ment,  and  he  probably  regreted  it  merely  because  he  felt  the  want 
of  a  congenial  spii  it.  On  the  contrary,  the  tone  of  the  conversa 
tion  was  gay  and  lively,  and  even  Susan  seemed  infected  by  the 
general  hilarity.  Mr.  Fox  saw  with  pleasure  that  she  waited  upon 
nobody  with  more  satisfaction  than  upon  Dolores  and  always  helped 
her  to  the  best  of  everything,  without  seeming  to  have  the  inten 
tion  of  doing  so. 

When  breakfast  was  over,  Mr.  Fox  announced  his  intention  to 
take  a  walk  to  the  factory  and  invited  the  children  to  accompany 
him.  Richard  alleged  that  his  mother  would  want  him  and  begged 
to  be  excused  ;  but  Lucy,  after  some  hesitation,  consented  to  join 
them.  Leaving  the  park,  the  trio  took  the  highway  on  the  right, 
passing  through  common  but  nevertheless  pretty  scenery.  On  the 
right  the  park  stretched  nearly  all  the  way  to  the  works,  and  on 
the  left  it  was  lined  with  little  cottages,  as  before  said,  with  only 
here  and  there  an  opening  of  an  acre  or  two  between  them.  As 
they  approached  the  last  house, which  had  quite  a  number  of  hand 
some  shade  trees  around  it,  and  in  its  architecture  and  surround 
ings  showed  more  than  ordinary  taste,  they  saw  a  woman  sitting  at 
the  window,  who,  on  observing  the  party,  greeted  them  friendly 
and  came  to  the  door,  insisting  on  a  short  stop  at  her  house.  She 
was  so  urgent  in  her  invitation  that  Mr.  Fox  could  not  well  de 
cline  ;  he  therefore  directed  his  companions  to  stop  a  little  while, 
and  opening  the  gate  of  the  fence  advanced  towards  the  house  to 
salute  the  hostess. 

"How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Fuchs?"  he  said,  shaking  hands  with 
the  dame  who  was  about  forty  years  of  age,  but  had  withstood  the 
tooth  of  time  very  well,  showing  an  embonpoint  indicative  of  a 
surplus  of  health  ;  "how  do  you  do,  madam,  and  how  do  your 
worthy  husband  and  the  boys  fare  ?" 

"  The  boys  are  very  well,  sir,  thank  you,"  the  hostess  replied 
with  a  strong  German  accent,  reversing  Mr.  Fox's  questions  in  her 
reply.  "  Mr.  Fuchs  works  as  usual  in  the  factory,  and  as  to  my 
self  why  I  can't  complain,  only  sometimes,  I  think,  I  get  a  little 
old  and  frail." 

"  Frail,  madam  ?"  Mr.  Fox  replied,  "  why  you  are  as  stout  as 
ever  and  will  undoubtedly  remain  so  for  fifty  years  to  come." 


DOLORES.  41 

Mrs.  Fuchs  laughed  and  begged  her  company  to  be  seated 
which  they  refused  to  do,  alleging  a  lack  of  time  to  indulge  in 
anything  besides  the  meditated  call  at  the  factory. 

"Oh!  you  must  stay  long  enough  to  taste  a  glass  of  Rhine 
wine  my  brother-in-law  sent  us  from  the  old  country,"  the  hostess 
replied  with  an  earnestness  that  would  brook  no  contradiction. 
"Just  sit  down  on  the  porch  ;  I'll  be  back  in  less  than  no  time." 

Suiting  the  actions  to  the  words,  she  disappeared,  but  shortly 
afterwards  returned  with  some  glasses  and  a  bottle  of  wine  which 
all  her  guests  had  to  partake  of,  before  she  would  be  satisfied.  Mr. 
Fox  praised  the  wine  as  it  well  deserved  ;  for  it  was  of  the  best  the 
famous  Rhine  produces  and  had  been  sent  by  a  relative  living  at 
that  source.  Then  he  once  more  asserted  the  necessity  of  continu 
ing  their  walk  ;  but  the  hostess  was  evidently  bound  to  prolong  the 
visit. 

"Why,  Mr.  Fox,"  she  said,  "you  are  always  in  a  great  hurry. 
I  havn't  had  time  yet  to  look  at  these  little  ladies.  This  here  is 
Miss  Lucy,  I  know,  and  growing  fast  too  ;  but  whom  have  we  here? 
Is  this  the  little  guest  staying  at  the  mansion  ?" 

"Yes,  Mrs.  Fuchs,  and  I  seize  this  opportunity  to  recommend 
her  to  your  favor." 

"  She  is  welcome,  indeed  she  is,"  the  hostess  said  with  a  genuine 
kindness  that  could  not  well  be  mistaken,  at  the  same  time  seizing 
the  girl's  hand  and  giving  it  a  firm  pressure.  "  I  hope  she  will 
often  call  to  see  me  and  stay  longer  than  Mr.  Fox  is  willing  to  do. 
But  there  are  my  boys.  Charles  !  Henry  !  Come  and  pay  your 
respects  to  Mr.  Fox." 

Two  boys,  about  sixteen  and  fourteen  years  of  age,  presented 
themselves  before  the  party,  to  do  their  mother's  bidding.  They 
were  both  handsome,  clever  looking  boys,  especially  the  older  who 
had  a  certain  something  about  his  person  which  we  sometimes  but 
rarely  find  in  strangers,  and  which  attracts  us  powerfully  from  the 
first.  He  was  tall  for  his  age,  possessing  a  body  evidently  strong 
and  well  knit,  yet  by  no  means  void  of  that  grace  which  is  seldom 
matched  with  robustness  and  strength.  When  he  took  off  his 
straw  hat  he  showed  a  high  and  commanding  forehead  ;  but  though 
a  pleasant  smile  seemed  to  play  habitually  around  his  lips,  a 
thoughtful  earnestness  was  stamped  on  his  upjper  face.  His  hair 


42  DOLORES. 

and  eyes  were  of  an  auburn  color,  and  the  latter  of  a  brightness 
which  in  moments  of  excitement  must  certainly  assume  a  startling 
brilliancy.  Altogether  the  youth  was  of  an  extraordinary  charac 
ter,  and  this  Dolores  seemed  to  feel,  for  her  eyes  dwelled  long  and 
earnestly  upon  him,  and  when  she  shook  hands  with  him  she 
blushed  and  dropped  her  eyes  before  his  keen  and  searching  glance. 

Henry,  the  younger  boy,  was  no  less  attractive  in  his  way.  He 
had  not  the  striking  appearance  of  his  brother,  but  in  the  eyes  of 
some  was  more  handsome.  His  beauty  was  not  of  an  intellectual 
character,  however,  and  in  the  eyes  of  Dolores  his  glossy  hair, 
smooth  skin  and  fair  color  were  no  compensation  for  his  brother's 
appearance  of  superior  intellect.  Kot  that  Henry  had  looked  any 
ways  dull ;  but  his  lively  eyes  lacked  steadiness,  wandering  here 
and  there  with  restless  vivacity  and  creating  involuntarily  the  im 
pression  in  the  observing  mind  that  his  purpose  was  as  unsteady  as 
his  glance. 

Charles  was  evidently  one  of  Mr.  Fox's  favorites,  for  he  shook 
hands  writh  him  with  great  cordiality  and  inquired  about  his  doings. 
Before  the  boy  could  answer  his  mother  replied  in  his  stead. 

"Mr.  Fox,  excuse  me  for  interrupting  you  ;  but  I'll  be  honest 
and  confess  that  I  had  my  little  side  reason  for  calling  you  in  to 
day  and  for  trespassing  on  your  precious  time.  It  is  my  boys  I 
wanted  to  speak  to  you  about  and  if  these  young  ladies  will  go  a 
moment  with  them  and  allow  them  to  show  them  the  garden  and 
their  pets  and  treasures  generally,  I  shall  unburden  my  heart,  sir, 
and  not  keep  you  much  longer  either." 

Mr.  Fox  had  muck  respect  for  the  whole  family,  that  was  evi 
dent  from  the  readiness  with  which  he  complied  with  her  wishes. 

"  Well,  little  ones,  be  off  then  for  a  spell ;  but  be  careful  not  to 
go  beyond  calling  distance  nor  to  impose  upon  the  gallantry  of 
your  guides." 

The  young  people  obeyed,  and  Charles  from  the  start  assumed 
the  guide  ;  not  that  he  had  pressed  his  services  in  that  capacity 
upon  the  girls — no,  it  seemed  rather  a  matter  of  course  than  any 
thing  else,  he  falling  into  it  as  naturally  as  the  others,  including 
Henry,  into  that  of  followers. 

"  Well,  young  ladies,"  he  began  with  a  smile  and  tone  that  was 
condescending,  without  intending  to  be  so,  "what  do  you  like  to 


DOLORES.  43 

see  ?  Your  father's  visit  will  be  of  short  duration  as  he  says  and 
I  cannot  show  you  half  my  treasures,  as  mother  is  kind  enough  to 
style  them,  before  he'll  call  you  away.  What  would  you  see  then  ? 
Shall  I  take  you  into  the  animal,  mineral  or  vegetable  kingdom  ? 
Will  you  have  beasts,  plants  or  stones  ?  Speak,  Lucy." 

Lucy  smiled  and  rather  shyly  answered  : 

"  It  makes  no  difference  to  me,  Charles  ;  suit  your  own  pleas 
ure." 

"But  I  would  rather  suit  your  pleasure.  What  does  this  young 
lady  say  ?  How  did  your  father  call  her  ?" 

"  Dolores  is  my  name." 

"  Dolores  f  that  means  pain"  the  boy  said  gravely  ;  it  is  a  pret 
ty  but  a  sad  name.  Well,  Miss  Dolores,  what  do  you  say  ?" 

"  I  say  what  Lucy  said.  I  don't  know  your  treasures,  and  one 
is  therefore  as  welcome  as  another." 

Charles  looked  sharply  at  the  little  thing  that  spoke  so  defi 
nitely. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said,  "and  I  shall  yield  the  point.  I'll 
show  you  things  then  which  I  like  best  myself;  if  they  don't  suit 
your  taste  you  must  blame  yourselves." 

He  led  them  to  the  rear  part  of  the  garden,  where  an  enclosure 
contained  several  pet  animals  of  his.  There  was  an  eagle  and 
lesser  birds,  a  raccoon,  a  fox,  a  deer  and  other  quadrupeds  be 
longing  to  the  collection,  which  was  a  very  choice  one.  The  girls 
where  delighted  ;  for  the  animals  were  indeed  fine  specimens  and 
very  different  from  the  lifeless,  crippled  creatures  wre  generally  see 
in  museums  or  menageries.  They  were  not  very  tame  either,  es 
pecially  those  which  from  their  nature  were  beasts  of  prey.  Charles 
would  therefore  not  allow  Henry  or  the  girls  to  enter  their  en 
closures  ;  for  they  had  on  former  occasions  not  only  frightened  but 
even  attacked  strangers.  He  himself,  however,  went  into  every 
cage  without  hesitation  and  Dolores  was  at  once  delighted  and 
frightened  at  the  fearlessness  with  which  he  handled  them  and  the 
great  attachment  to  their  master  and  entire  subjection  to  his  will 
these  animals  showed.  She  looked  at  him  with  considerable  respect 
and  listened  to  his  explanations  with  profound  attention.  Much  of 
what  he  said  was  new  to  her,  but  Dolores  wras  not  altogether  so  ig 
norant  as  her  previous  life  would  warrant.  Her  parents  had  been 


44  DOLORES. 

educated  people,  and  striven  to  the  best  of  their  ability  to  impart 
their  knowledge  to  their  daughter.  From  them  she  had  inherited 
a  language  above  her  recent  station,  and  many  other  things  which 
long  neglect  had  made  very  dim,  but  net  obliterated  altogether. 
As  Charles  spoke  they  rose  to  view  and  made  his  remarks  doubly 
valuable  and  instructive. 

From  the  menagerie  Charles  took  his  visitors  to  other  equally 
interesting  departments  of  his  little  dominion,  and  wherever  they 
went  he  addressed  his  remarks  unconsciously  to  Dolores.  Perhaps 
her  decisive  language  had  impressed  him,  or  he  noticed  in  her  re 
plies  marks  of  a  superior  intellect  that  enlisted  his  sympathy. 
Seeing  that  treats  of  an  intellectual  character  pleased  her  best,  he 
made  his  selections  accordingly,  much  to  the  disappointment  of 
Lucy,  who  clamored  for  the  white  mice  and  pet  lambs,  and  the 
large  swing  in  which  Charles  had  often  made  her  scream  with  fear 
and  delight.  But  to-day  he  seemed  deaf  to  all  her  hints  and  al 
lusions,  and  seeing  him  so  little  inclined  to  humor  her  wishes,  she 
gave  Henry  a  hint,  and  before  Charles  and  Dolores  knew  it  they 
had  strayed  off  to  amusements  more  congenial  to  their  dispositions. 

And  Charles  and  his  little  mate,  what  did  they  in  the  mean 
time  admire  ?  The  lad  took  her  into  his  sanctum  which  was  study, 
library,  workshop  and  laboratory  all  in  one.  First  he  showed  her 
the  model  of  a  frigate,  a  beautiful  piece  of  workmanship,  all  his 
own  making.  He  knew  and  told  her  the  names  of  all  the  masts 
and  sails  and  riggings,  and  enlarged  on  the  duties  and  beauties  and 
hardships  and  perils  of  the  sea,  until  her  fancy  was  completely 
captivated,  and  she  could  scarcely  tear  herself  away  from  the  model. 
Next  they  went  to  a  little  engine,  which  he  had  built,  though  the 
main  parts  had  been  cast  for  him  at  the  factory.  He  had  given 
the  dimensions  and  calculated  the  power  and  at  last  had  the  satis 
faction  of  seeing  the  machine  work  perfectly.  Now,  of  course 
there  was  no  steam  up,  but  Charles  often  fired  his  engine  and  then 
used  its  power  in  turning,  boring  or  performing  other  mechanical 
labors  he  required. 

From  the  engine  they  came  to  cases  with  books  of  various 
kinds,  whose  very  titles  sounded  too  learned  for  ignorant  little  Do 
lores.  She  told  him  so  with  her  wonted  honesty  and  he  said  it  was 
a  pity  and  asked  her  whether  she  had  no  desire  to  learn.  Then  it 


DOLORES.  45 

was  her  turn  to  become  animated,  and,  with  a  shining  face,  to  tell 
him  how  anxious  she  was  and  that  Mr.  Fox  had  promised  to  give 
her  a  chance.  Her  eagerness  pleased  the  young  student,  and  their 
mutual  exchanges  and  discoveries  of  similar  likes  and  dislikes  made 
them  fast  friends  and  feel  as  if  they  had  known  each  other  ever 
so  long.  When  Mr.  Fox's  voice  finally  summoned  Dolores  away 
they  were  not  half  through  with  examining  and  talking,  and 
Charles  exacted  a  promise  from  her  to  come  soon  again,  which  Do 
lores  was  very  willing  to  give.  They  reached  the  older  couple 
about  the  same  time  with  Henry  and  Lucy  ;  but  the  young  people 
were  too  much  occupied  to  notice  the  closing  remarks  of  the  hos- 
te^s  who,  judging  from  her  earnest  countenance,  had  been  talking 
rather  serious  matters. 

"  And  you  will  not  take  it  ill  that  I  thus  touched  on  matters 
that  are  not  mv  business  ?"  she  said. 

'•How  can  you  ask  that  question?"  he  returned  reproachfully. 
"  I  would  be  very  ungrateful  not  to  appreciate  your  kind  motives  ; 
though  your  friendship  to  me  and  mine  makes  you  see  things 
rather  too  gloomy,  I  think.  If  that  man  ever  deceives  me,  I  shall 
lose  all  faith  in  human  nature  and  for  that,  if  for  no  other  reason, 
sincerely  trust  he  may  not." 

"Well,  it  is  in  human  nature  to  err,"  the  hostess  resumed,  "and 
I  am  the  last  to  claim  infallibility.  Having  told  you  my  suspi 
cion,  I  feel  relieved  and  if  after  all  this  my  warning  is  not  heeded, 
and  you'll  come  to  harm,  sir,  I  shall  at  least  have  the  conscious 
ness  of  having  done  my  duty." 

"Certainly,  certainly,"  Mr.  Fox  exclaimed,  "and  your  words 
have  proven  anew  that  you  are,  what  I  always  thought  you  to  be, 
a  true  friend.  Nor  will  they  be  thrown  away,  Mrs.  Fnchs;  indeed 
they  will  not  and  I  promise  you  to  keep  my  eyes  open." 

"  That  is  all  I  want,  and  in  regard  to  the  boys,  you  will  in 
struct  Mr.  Wood  ?" 

"Of  course,  I  will,  Mrs.  Fuchs,  and  that  at  once.  Indeed  I 
cannot  imagine  what  he  meant  by  refusing  your  husband,  and  I 
half  believe  there  must  be  a  misunderstanding  somewhere.  At 
any  rate,  I  shall  soon  know  and,  misunderstanding  or  not,  you  may 
rest  assured  that  the  boys  will  be  admitted  into  the  factory." 


46  DOLORES. 

The  hostess  thanked  him,  and  then  they  shook  hands  and  part 
ed.  Fox  and  the  girls  resuming  their  walk  to  the  factory  which 
was  now  only  a  few  hundred  yards  distant. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  SUPERINTENDENT. 

The  buildings  were  of  considerable  dimensions  and  well  finished, 
and  the  neatness  and  order  prevailing  everywhere  bore  evidence  of 
an  efficient  management.  The  party  entered  the  main  building, 
and  going  from  place  to  place  saw  cutlery  of  all  descriptions  going 
through  the  various  processes  of  manufacture.  Lucy  had  seen  this 
so  often  that  the  charm  of  novelty  was  lacking  ;  but  with  Dolores 
it  was  very  different.  She  was  all  attention,  evidently  taking  in 
the  most  minute  details  and  asking  pertinent  questions,  wherever 
her  little  head  could  not  furnish  the  explanation.  Mr.  Fox  was 
much  pleased  at  her  zeal,  and  furnished  all  the  information  she 
could  possibly  desire.  From  the  main  building  they  went  into  an 
other  of  minor  dimensions,  in  which  the  various  sorts  of  knives  and 
forks  underwent  the  last  finishing  touch.  The  girls  were  delighted 
with  the  fine  polished  handles  and  blades,  and  the  eyes  of  Dolores 
sparkled  with  delight  when  Mr.  Fox  took  a  pocket  knife  of  ingeni 
ous  design  and  more  than  ordinary  beauty  and  made  her  a  present 
of  it. 

"  I  am  to  have  this  beautiful  knife?"  she  cried  in  ecstasies.  The 
gift  was  so  much  in  keeping  with  the  energetic  practical  character 
of  the  child  that  she  enjoyed  it  very  much  and  came  near  being 
thrown  oft'  that  balance  of  mind  which  she  generally  understood 
how  to  preserve  so  well.  Her  eyes  beamed  with  a  brightness  more 
satisfactory  to  Mr.  Fox  than  ever  so  many  words  of  thanks  could 
have  been.  He  was  glad  to  see  that  she  so  soon  regained  the  buoy 
ancy  of  mind  and  body  which  her  excessive  grief  at  her  father's 
death  had  made  him  fear  she  would  be  wanting  for  a  long  time. 
Her  parent  had  only  been  buried  a  day  and  now  this  little  girl  as 
sumed  a  mien  of  gayety  that  might  have  led  most  observers  to  the 


DOLOKES.  47 

belief  that  she  was  a  shallow,  heartless  creature,  sacrificing  the 
memory  of  the  dead  one  to  the  charms  and  allurements  of  her  new 
situation.  Yet  such  observers  would  have  been  very  much  mis 
taken  ;  deep  natures  like  that  of  Dolores  do  not  easily  show  their 
sorrow  on  the  surface ;  like  deep  waters  they  preserve  their  tran 
quillity,  unless  agitated  by  storms  of  fearful  magnitudes  in  which 
instance,  however,  they  pitch  their  billows  with  a  startling  vehe 
mence.  Moreover  Dolores  had  a  will,  a  strong  will,  and  enclosing 
the  rememberance  of  her  father  with  filial  piety  into  the  recesses 
of  her  heart,  she  endeavored  to  spare  her  benefactor  the  sight  of 
sighs  and  tears  which  would  be  foreign,  and,  as  she  thought,  un 
pleasant  to  him.  Whether  she  preserved  this  stoic  composure  al 
ways  when  alone  ;  whether  she  did  not  often  wet  her  pillow  with 
her  tears  in  the  still  hours  of  night  ;  who  knows  ?  Happy  she,  if 
she  could  control  her  grief ;  happy  childhood  which  rapidly  for 
gets  and  already  applies  a  healing  balm  before  the  arrow  that  in 
flicted  the  wound  is  well  removed. 

"  Good  day,  Mr.  Fuchs."  Fox  addressed  a  man  of  his  own  age 
who  was  busying  himself  about  some  machinery  that  seemed  out  of 
order.  "  Always  busy,  as  I  see  ;  if  you'll  stop  long  enough  to 
listen,  I  shall  deliver  your  wife's  best  wishes  to  you." 

This  was  said  with  a  jocund  air  as  one  man  speaks  to  another 
of  equal  standing ;  yet  they  slightly  confused  Mr.  Fuchs.  Mr. 
Fuchs  was  the  true  type  of  the  German  mechanic,  as  he  imigrates 
into  this  country  at  mature  age  and  with  habits  formed.  There 
were  the  square  strong  features  of  the  face,  the  eyes  beaming  with 
intelligence  and  good  nature,  the  strong,  sturdy  frame,  bent  some 
what  forward,  either  by  hard  work  or  that  modest  submissiveness 
which  forms  an  essential  element  of  his  earliest  training.  He 
shows  a  slight  embarrassment  when  addressed  by  his  betters  and 
in  spite  of  himself  cannot  unlearn  that  involuntary  motion  of  his 
hand  to  his  cap  when  spoken  to.  Mr.  Fox's  kindness,  instead  of 
easing  the  man,  oppressed  him,  as  it  were  with  a  load  of  indebted 
ness  for  so  undeserved  a  condescension,  and  in  vain  that  gentleman 
had  through  years  of  intercourse  battled  to  put  Mr.  Fuchs  at  his 
ease.  That  worthy  man  showed  himself  as  nervous  and  fluttered 
to-day  as  at  the  hour  when  Mr.  Fox  first  engaged  his  services  for 


48  DOLORES. 

the  factory  which,  by  the  by,  had  been  a  considerable  number  of 
years  ago.  Finally  Mr.  Fox  had  got  used  to  his  ways  and  no 
longer  minded  them. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Fox,  that's  you,"  the  foreman  said  starting  up  in 
surprise,  for  he  had  been  stooping  down  with  his  back  towards  the 
party.  He  smiled  and  bowed  repeatedly,  in  the  mean  time  hold 
ing  his  light  working  cap  suspended  above  his  head.  "Quite  a 
surprise,  indeed." 

"  Why  man,  I  don't  make  myself  as  scarce  as  that,  do  I  ?" 

"  Well,  I  think,  I  havn't  seen  Mr.  Fox  for  a  whole  week,  I  am 
sure." 

"Indeed,  is  it  that  long  I  have  been  absent?  Well,  I  guess 
I'll  do  better  in  future.  Your  wife,  Mr.  Fuchs,  thinks  so  at  any 
rate ;  I  had  a  good  long  talk  with  the  worthy  lady." 

Mr.  Fox  spoke  so  meaningly  and  the  look  he  cast  into  the 
other's  eye  was  so  significant  that  the  foreman  could  not  help  no 
ticing  it.  He  grew  more  nervous  in  consequence  and  said  with 
considerable  stammering  : 

"  Did  she  indeed?  Sure,  Mr.  Fox,  I  warned  her  not  to  ;  I  told 
her,  I 1- 

"  Never  mind,  sir,"  Mr.  Fox  rep.ied.  "I  took  it  as  it  was  in 
tended,  and  even  if  your  lady  were  too  apprehensive,  it  would  cer 
tainly  do  no  harm.  I  shall  keep  my  eyes  open  hereafter  and  visit 
the  factory  more  frequently." 

Mr.  Fox  had  lowered  his  voice  in  saying  this,  still  his  fear  of 
being  overheard  was  trifling  compared  with  that  of  Mr.  Fuchs. 
That  individual  was  the  embodiment  of  fear  and  trembling,  and 
turning  here  and  there,  cast  his  eyes  in  every  direction  with  nerv 
ousness  truly  ludicrous.  Still,  Mr.  Fox  did  not  laugh  at  him,  but 
in  a  soothing  manner  said  to  him  : 

"  Fear  nothing,  sir,  he  is  not  present,  nor  shall  he  hear  the  least 
about  your  wife's  communications  ;  so  rest  easy  on  that  score.  In 
regard  to  your  wishes  about  your  boys,  I  shall  talk  to  Mr.  Wood 
at  once.  I  cannot  imagine  what  he  meant  by  refusing  you." 

"  Nor  I,  Mr.  Fox,  unless  he  feared  that  by  the  presence  of  the 
boys  my  influence  with  you  would  be  increased.  I  know  he  dis 
likes  me,  Mr.  Fox." 

Mr.  Fox  shook  his  head. 


DOLORES.  49 

"I  don't  really  know  why  he  should  ;  he  never  intimated  any 
thing  of  the  kind  to  me.  At  any  rate,  it  will  avail  him  nothing. 
Rest  assured,  my  good  friend,  that  I  value  your  services  too  highly 
to  be  influenced  against  you,  even  by  Mr.  Wood." 

With  these  words  Mr.  Fox  went  on  with  his  companions,  and 
leaving  the  factory  approached  and  entered  a  one-story  building 
above  whose  door  the  word  "  Office"  was  painted  in  large  striking 
letters.  In  the  only  room  of  the  building  two  men  were  engaged 
in  rather  a  lively  altercation,  so  lively  indeed  that  they  did  not 
hear  the  entrance  of  Mr.  Fox,  who  in  his  turn  stood  still,  rather 
surprised  at  the  tone  of  a  dispute  altogether  too  hot  for  the  office 
of  a  large  manufacturing  establishment.  Besides  the  disputants 
there  was  a  young  clerk  in  the  office  who,  though  following  the  ar 
guments  with  much  interest,  had  retained  sufficient  control  over  his 
eyes  and  years  to  notice  the  entrance  of  his  employer.  He  was 
evidently  startled  and  by  various  signs  and  sounds  endeavored  to 
warn  one  of  the  disputants  of  possible  troubles.  The  man  thus 
warned  appeared  to  fill  a  position  of  importance  in  the  factory  ; 
one  could  see  this  from  the  elegance  of  his  clothes,  the  easy  post 
ure  in  an  arm  chair  which  he  occupied  during  the  altercation,  while 
his  antagonist  was  standing  with  his  hat  in  his  hand  ;  from  the  as 
surance — some  might  have  termed  it  presumption — with  which  he 
eyed  him,  in  short,  from  a  certain  something  that  always  bespeaks 
authority,  though  it  is  apt  to  change  with  the  character  of  the  oc 
cupant  from  the  modest  self-reliance  of  the  gentleman  to  the  swag 
ger  of  the  upstart.  We  don't  want  to  be  hard  on  appearances,  but 
we  must  confess  that  we  don't  like  that  man's  looks  at  all.  His 
forehead  is  low  and  overhung  by  masses  of  coarse  black  hair,  from 
under  which  his  small  eyes  shine  forth  with  a  sparkle  that  shares 
the  charm  of  the  rattlesnake,  if  that  reptile  really  possesses  the 
power  to  hold  gazer  spell  bound.  His  features  were  common,  with 
nothing  to  repel  or  to  attract.  The  most  singular  quality  of  the 
man,  however,  was  his  voice,  which  preserved  a  sonorous  sweetness 
even  in  the  heat  of  dispute,  which  in  this  instance  evidently  had 
the  effect  of  irritating  his  adversary  the  more.  We  sons  of  Adam 
have  the  weakness  of  becoming  doubly  nettled  when  an  insult  is 
offered  us  in  a  bland  and  polke  manner. 

"Well,  Mr.  Wood,"  the  man  addressed  the  person  we  have 


50  DOLORES. 

described,  ''is  that  your  last  word?  Is  there  no  chance  for  us  to- 
earn  a  decent  living  in  this  factory  ?  God  knows,  we  haven't  done 
too  well  before  ;  but  if  you  insist  upon  taking  ten  more  per  cent 
from  our  wages,  we'll  have  to  stint  ourselves  to  dry  bread." 

"  Dry  bread  is  very  healthy  food,  my  good  man,  and  eaten  by 
many  a  fellow  that  knows  as  much  and  more  than  you." 

The  man  winced  under  the  taunt. 

"  May  be  they  stand  it,  because  it  is'nt  your  bread." 

"  Who  compels  you,  my  friend,  to  eat  my  bread  ?"  the  manager 
asked  Avith  the  greatest  suavity. 

"  Necessity,  sir,  and  you  know  it  and  therefore  venture  to  op 
press  a  poor  man.  You  know,  I  can't  easily  move  with  a  large 
family  ;  you  know,  this  is  my  native  place  and  also  my  comrades', 
and  you  think  we'd  rather  suffer  you  to  flay  us  than  quit  and  pull 
stakes.  But,  Mr.  Wood,  let  me  tell  you,  there  is  an  end  to  every 
thing,  and  when  a  fellow  is  pushed  against  the  wall  he  can't  back 
any  further." 

Mr.  Wood  yawned  : 

"My  good  man,"  he  said,  "that  will  do.  I  understand  you 
and  you  understand  me  ;  what  then  is  the  use  of  talking  any  furth 
er  ?  I  have  my  orders  and  they  must  be  obeyed  ;  so  that  ends  the 
matter." 

' '  It  may  fo*  you  ;  but  not  for  us.  Indeed  you  always  talk  of 
orders  ;  but  somehow  I  can't  get  into  my  head  that  Mr.  Fox  should 
want  to  be  so  hard  on  us.  He  used  to  be  very  good  to  us,  and  fair 
too,  and  its  only  since  you  are  standing  between  us  and  him  that 
matters  have  changed  for  worse.  You  threaten  to  discharge  any 
one  that  complains  to  Mr.  Fox  ;  but  if  you  discharge  me  a  dozen 
times  over,  I  am  going  to  have  a  talk  to  him.  May  be  I  could  tell 
him  things " 

Mr.  Fox  had  only  overheard  the  last  remarks ;  but  he  had  heard 
enough  to  deem  his  speedy  intervention  desirable. 

"Mr  friends,  what  is  all  this  about?"  he  said,  stepping  forward 
and  thereby  causing  both  disputants  to  turn  towards  him  with  a 
start.  Both  were  alarmed,  though  perhaps  from  different  reasons  ; 
but  before  either  had  time  to  respond,  Mr.  Fox  continued  : 

"  Wilcox,  if  I  understood  you  right,  you  spoke  of  calling  on 
me  ;  what  can  I  do  for  you,  my  friend  ?n 


DOLORES.  51 

"  Well,  Mr.  Fox,"  the  man  replied,  letting  the  rim  of  his  hat 
slip  through  his  fingers,  ''the  truth  of  the  matter  is,  I  wanted  to 
have  a  talk  to  you  about  your  intention  of  reducing  our  wages. 
We  earn  little  enough  as  it  is,  and v 

"Reduce  your  wages  ;"  Mr.  Fox  said  in  surprise,  "what  do  you 
mean  ?  I  never  thought  of  such  a  thing.  Who  told  you  ?" 

"Why,  Mr  Wood- 
By  this  time  that  gentleman  had  regained  his  self-possession. 
Wishing  to  check  all  further  communications  on  the  part  of  the 
laborer,  he  interrupted  him,  saying  : 

' '  Mr.  Fox,  you  surely  recollect  our  conversation  concerning 
this.  You  did  not  exactly  authorize  the  measure,  but  I  inferred 
from  your  remarks " 

"  Something  that  was  not  in  them,"  Mr.  Fox  said  somewhat 
sharply.  Then  recollecting  that  it  would  not  answer  to  lecture  his 
superintendent  before  one  of  the  hands,  he  checked  himself.  Turn 
ing  to  the  workman,  he  said  : 

"  Wilcox,  this  is  a  misunderstanding  which  Mr.  Wood  will  be 
able  to  explain,  no  doubt.  You  may  go  for  the  present  to  let  your 
friends  know  that  we  shall  do  nothing  to  you  and  them  but  what 
is  fair.  I  have  some  business  with  Mr.  Wood  just  now  ;  but  if 
you'll  do  me  the  favor  of  calling  at  my  house  this  evening' or  any 
time  that  suits  you  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Fox,  I  shall  be  glad  to  call,"  the  man  re 
plied,  and  donning  his  hat,  left  the  room  a  much  happier  fellow 
than  appearances  had  warranted  a  few  minutes  ago. 

Mr.  Fox,  on  the  other  hand,  took  a  chair,  and  his  face  bore  a 
darker  expression  than  it  was  wont  to  show. 

"Little  ones,"  he  addressed  the  girls,  "business  is  too  dry  for 
your  ears  and  you  will  undoubtedly  prefer  to  run  about,  while  I 
am  deliberating  with  Mr.  Wood.  George,  they  haven't  seen  the 
machine  room  and  the  engine  building.  Supposing  you  lay  down 
your  pen  for  half  an  hour  and  conduct  them  around.  1  charge  you 
with  their  safety  though  and  expect  them  back  without  broken 
bones.  Be  careful  therefore  and  don't  let  them  go  too  near  the 
machinery." 

George  was  the  young  man  at  .the  desk.      Doing  his  master's 


52  DOLORES. 

bidding,  he  arose  and  led  the  girls  from  the  office.     After  the  door 
was  shut  again,  Mr.  Fox  turned  to  his  companion  and  said  : 

1  'Well,  cousin  Richard,  what  does  all  this  signify?" 

It  seemed  that  it  was  Mr.  Fox's  destiny  that  day  to  astonish 
everybody.  He  had  startled  his  male  and  female  servants,  sur 
prised  his  son  and  amazed  his  wife,  and  now  it  was  the  turn  of  this 
gentleman  with  the  cunning  eye  and  the  sonorous  voice  to  experi 
ence  the  same  thing.  Mr.  Fox  was  so  very  different  from  what  he 
used  to  be  ;  he  spoke  so  much  more  sharply,  shortly,  to  the  point, 
that  Mr.  Wood,  for  the  first  time  since  their  long  connection,  felt 
embarrassed  although  the  confusion  was  but  momentary  ;  using  the 
sweetest  undulations  of  his  voice,  he  said  : 

"  It  signifies,  cousin  Edward,  that  I  go  so  far  in  my  devotion  to 
you  to  save  you  all  unnecessary  trouble,  even  at  the  cost  of  my 
popularity." 

"  Your  popularity  ?  I  don't  see  how  that  can  suffer,  by  making 
me  the  scapegoat  for  your  obnoxious  measures." 

"  Obnoxious  they  may  be — necessary  they  surely  are." 

"  Necessary?  how  necessary?  I  see  no  reason  for  this. reduc 
tion." 

"  You  will,  if  you  examine  the  books.  Cutlery  has  fallen  in 
price  and  the  raw  material  has  risen.  The  expenses  of  your  house 
hold  are  considerable,  you  know,  and  if  you  want  to  live  as  usual — " 

"  I'll  have  to  press  the  money  out  of  the  sweat  of  my  poor  la 
borers.  No,  sir,  that  is  not  my  desire.  1  was  not  aware  though, 
that  we  lived  so  very  extravagantly,  Richard  ;  how  much  money 
did  you  furnish  last  month  ?" 

"  Three  hundred  dollars  for  household  expenses." 

"Well,  that  is  enough,  but  hardly  too  much.  I  don't  think, 
such  sums  will  break  us  up  for  a  while." 

"  But,  sir,"  the  manager  resumed  reluctantly,  "you  know  there 
are  other  expenses." 

"Exactly,  Richard,  but  they  are  small  compared  with  the  above 
expense." 

"There  are,  first,  fifty  dollars  charged  to  your  private  account." 

"Well,  what  more?" 

"  There  are  one  thousand  dollars  charged  to  Mrs.  Fox's  private 
account." 


DOLORES.  53 

Mr.  Fox  straightened  himself  up  in  his  chair. 

"Richard,  you  are  joking  ;  one  thousand  dollars  monthly  ex 
penditure  of  my  wife  ?" 

"  Exactly,  sir  ;  not  a  cent  more  nor  less." 

"And  the  month  before,  how  much  ?" 

"  One  thousand  dollars." 

"  And  the  month  before  that  ?" 

"  One  thousand  dollars." 

Now  it  was  Mr.  Fox's  turn  to  be  astounded,  yes  thunderstruck. 
One  thousand  dollars  a  month  for  his  wife's  private  necessities  ! 

No  wonder  then  that  a  new  reduction  of  the  laborers'  wages  had 
become  necessary.  He  felt  his  ire  rising  within  him  ;  but  he  was 
even  more  ashamed  than  angry ;  ashamed  of  his  own  negligence, 
his  culpable  ease  and  indulgence,  without  which  such  things  could 
never  have  happened.  But  this  should  change  now,  he  would 
rouse  himself  to  redoubled  energy  and  exercise  a  vigilance  over  his 
family,  his  servants  and  employees  which  would  make  such  out 
rages  impossible  hereafter. 

"  Why  did  you  never  inform  me  of  this,  Richard?"  he  said  ab 
ruptly. 

"  Inform  you,  Edward?  Why  of  course,  I  expected  you  to 
know  it.  How  could  I  think  that  Cousin  Caroline  would  spend 
such  sums  of  money  without  your  knowledge  ?  Indeed  I  am  more 
astonished  at  my  discovery,  than  you  could  possibly  be  at  yours" 

Fox  felt  the  point  and  calculated  that  silence  would  be  the  best 
policy.  So  changing  the  topic,  he  begged  Wood  to  show  him  the 
books,  and  having  received  them,  applied  himself  to  their  examin 
ation  with  so  much  zeal  that  when  the  girls  returned,  after  an 
hour's  absence,  he  declared  that  he  had  thought  them  gone  but 
one-fourth  of  that  time.  Still  he  would  not  let  them  wait  any 
longer,  especially  since  the  accounts  had  evidently  been  kept  with 
the  most  scrupulous  care,  and  had  still  further  convinced  him  of 
the  fact  that  the  blame  rested  chiefly  with  himself,  at  least  as  far 
as  his  wife's  prodigality  was  concerned,  and  indeed  even  regarding 
Mr.  Wood's  intended  measure  towards  the  hands.  Mr.  Fox  saw 
well  enough  that  such  extravagance  could  not  well  be  indulged  in 
without  some  penalty,  and  if  Mr.  Wood  preferred  to  let  the  poor 
laborers  pay  it  and  keep  this  unpleasant  fact  concealed  from  Mr. 


54  DOLORES. 

Fox,  why,  surely  such  conduct  might  show  wrong  principles  and  a 
false  consideration,  but  still  a  consideration.  Mr.  Fox  arose  with  a 
troubled  mind ;  he  had  not  yet  exactly  marked  out  his  course  of 
conduct,  but  he  had  at  least  resolved  to  commence  the  reform  with 
his  own  person.  Preparing  to  leave  the  office,  he  said  to  Wood  : 

"  Cousin  Richard,  I  have  been  a  fool,  that's  evident;  but  I  shall 
take  off  that  cap  now,  rely  on  it.  Let  matters  remain  here,  as 
they  were  before  ;  but  when  Mrs.  Fox  comes  for  more  money,  tell 
her  she  cannot  have  a  cent  more  than  one  hundred  dollars  a  month. 
If  she  don't  like  it,  refer  her  to  me." 

He  was  on  the  point  of  leaving  the  office,  but  remembering 
something  he  had  forgotten  in  his  excitement,  he  once  more  turned 
to  the  manager. 

"  Richard,"  he  said,  "  Mr.  Fuchs  tells  me  that  you  refused  to 
admit  his  boys  into  the  factory.  How  is  that?" 

Mr.  Wood's  mien  showed  plainly  that  this  question  touched 
another  sore  spot.  Yet  there  was  no  way  of  avoiding  the  issue  ; 
so  he  summoned  courage  and  replied  : 

"  Well,  Edward,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  did  refuse  him.  He  asked 
special  privileges,  such  as  wanting  his  boys  to  work  only  part  of 
the  time  and  having  them  turn  to  anything  they  had  a  mind  to. 
Granting  such  favors  would  be  a  dangerous  innovation  and  I  doubt 
ed  whether  I  had  authority  to  do  it.  Therefore  I  refused." 

"  Still  you  thought  you  had  the  authority  to  reduce  the  wages 
of  all  the  hands  and  also  forgot  that  it  is  as  much  an  act  of  au 
thority  to  refuse  as  to  grant.  Conscience  is  a  queer  institution, 
isn't  it  Richard  ?  But  to  set  yours  at  ease,  I  herewith  give  you 
full  power  to  grant  the  wishes  of  Mr.  Fuchs  concerning  his  boys. 
Good  day,  sir." 

With  these  words  he  departed,  leaving  Mr.  Wood  and  his  junior 
clerk  in  a  rather  perplexed  state  of  mind.  They  gazed  at  one  an 
other  with  a  sheepish  expression,  and  Wood  at  last  began  : 

"  George,  what  in  all  creation  does  this  mean  ?     Do  you  under 
stand  what  has  got  into  the  head  of  the  old  dolt  ?" 

"Not  exactly,  Mr.  Wood  ;  but  what  I  see  means  caution.  It 
would  be  a  nice  thing,  if  Mr.  Fox  should  remain  wide  awake  and 
spoil  our  fine  calculations." 

"The  deuce  take  him  !  I'd  sooner  see  him  go  to  h — 1  than  give 


DOLORES.  55 

up  my  plans  and  my  long  cherished  thirst  for  vengeance.  But  no, 
this  energy  of  his  will  not  last ;  it  is  too  sudden  to  wear." 

' '  And  if  it  lasts  contrary  to  your  expectations  ?" 

"  Then  we  must  change  our  tactics.  The  consummation  of  our 
present  plan  requires  altogether  too  much  time,  and  the  slightest 
suspicion  would  at  once  result  in  the  discovery  which  would  be 
worse  than  failure.  No,  I  cannot  bear  the  thought  of  disappoint 
ment  and  if  this  sudden  freak  of  his  should  last,  we  must  take 
measures  to  quicken  the  denouement." 

"  Perhaps  Mrs.  Fox  can  give  you  the  clue  to  this  change." 

' '  She  may  and  I  shall  call  on  her  as  soon  as  I  can.  This  sud 
den  discovery  of  her  imaginary  extravagance  is  also  a  bad  thing. 
It  will  stop  one  source  from  which  we  swelled  our  income  ;  but  '  it 
never  rains  but  it  pours,'  as  the  proverb  says." 

"  That  is  so,  and  the  admittance  of  the  Fuchs  boys  comes  also 
very  importunely." 

"  Well,  yes,  though  after  all  I  cannot  see  how  they  will  harm 
us  much.  I  was  wrong  in  making  any  ado  about  it.  I  fear  the 
father  more  than  the  boys,  and  a  certain  something  tells  me  that 
he  suspects  our  operations." 

"That  old  poltroon  ?  Why  Richard,  I  should  as  soon  suspect 
my  boot-jack.  No,  I  have  no  fear  of  him,  out  a  good  deal  of  his 
son.  There  isn't  a  smarter  and  more  cunning  youngster  to  be  found 
for  five  miles  around." 

"You  may  be  right,  George,  and  it  will  do  no  harm  to  watch 
his  movements.  It's  surely  very  vexing  though  to  be  bothered  at 
a  dozen  places  at  once.  Sometimes  I  think,  if  I  had  known  how 
much  trouble  would  be  in  store  for  us,  I  wouldn't  have  embarked 
on  so  perilous  an  undertaking." 

"  Why,  Richard  !  I  am  astonished.  You  and  Fox  seem  to  have 
swapped  characters." 

"It  isn't  that,  George;  but  I  begin  to  understand  what  it 
means,  when  the  bible  says  :  the  way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard" 

George  laughed  lustily. 

" Mr.  Wood  in  the  role  of  a  parson  !"  he  cried.  "That  is  too 
good,  and  if  somebody  told  me  now  the  world  would  come  to  an 
end  to-morrow  I  should  believe  it.  Indeed  I  must  take  some 
medicine  to  guard  against  infection ;  for  this  madness  seems  to  be 


56  DOLORES. 

in  the  air  and  before  I  am  aware  of  it  I  shall  have  caught  it  my 
self." 

His  companion  did  not  heed  his  mockeries,  but  brooding  over 
the  dark  thoughts  that  filled  his  mind,  preserved  his  silence. 
George,  in  order  to  rouse  him,  shook  him  by  the  shoulder. 

"  Man,  wake  up  !"  he  cried.  "  If  the  prospect  of  wealth  and 
vengeance  cannot  stir  you  up,  let  the  sweet  thought  of  love  re 
quited  warm  your  sluggish  blood." 

Wood  stared. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  What  do  you  know  of  love  ?  Listen 
to  the  boy ! "  Hardly  fledged,  he  talks  about  the  passion  of  a 
man  ! " 

"  You  forget  the  school  I  am  in,  Richard,"  George  said,  with  a 
sneer.  "  Under  your  tuition  one  ripens  fast.  But  to  come  back  to 
the  point.  It  is  hardly  fair  that  you  should  try  to  hide  this  court 
ship  of  yours  from  your  faithful  ally.  It  is  no  use,  at  all  events, 
for  I  know  as  well  as  you  that  you  mean  to  steal  not  only  your  em- 
player's  money,  but  his  wife  in  the  bargain.  Do  tell  me  how  far 
you  have  succeeded  ?  " 

Wood  cast  a  look  upon  the  other  that  made  him  stop  at  once. 

"George,"  he  said,  "  if  I  were  you  I  would  not  meddle  with 
matters  that  don't  concern  you.  We  were  allies  in  our  attempt  upon 
the  purse  of  Mr.  Fox,  but  not  in  any  upon  his  wife.  If  what  you 
hinted  at  were  true  it  would  surely  be  none  of  your  business,  and 
I'll  tell  vou  once  for  all  that  I  shall  brook  no  attempt  to  extend  our 
partnership  in  that  direction." 

"  Jealous!"  the  young  man  muttered  to  himself,  as  he  resumed 
his  seat  to  close  an  account.  '  *  I'll  follow  your  advice  and  hold  my 
peace  ;  but  at  the  same  time  it  will  not  be  amiss  to  keep  a  lookout 
on  your  movements.  A  man  who  sells  his  employer  will  not  hesi 
tate  to  sell  his  friend,  and  it  may  be  well  enough  to  set  a  trap  for 
you  that  can  be  sprung  when  necessity  requires  it." 

The  worthy  youngster  chuckled  at  his  smartness,  but  in  moral 
izing  on  his  friend's  treachery  he  forgot  the  trifling  circumstance 
that  he  came  under  the  same  category. 


DOLORES.  57 

CHAPTER  VI. 

DEVELOPMENTS. 

Dolores  had  conquered  the  basement ;  but  if  from  this  success 
she  formed  the  hope  of  conquering  also  the  boudoir  she  was  gi  eatly 
mistaken.  The  servants  at  least  had  hearts,  but  if  -Mrs.  Fox  at 
all  possessed  that  organ,  generally  considered  the  seat  of  feeling, 
she  did  not  show  it  in  her  conduct.  Perhaps  her  heart  had  under 
gone  a  slow  process  of  petrifiction,  or  it  was,  maybe,  so  filled  with 
her  own  important  self  that  there  was  no  room  for  other  parties  in 
it.  She  certainly  had  none  for  poor  Dolores,  and  from  the  way  she 
treated  her  husband,  for  him  either.  Richard  alone  could  boast  of 
receiving  from  his  mother  tokens  of  affection,  but  even  these  were 
of  a  very  capricious  character  and  more  calculated  to  injure  than  to- 
benefit  the  boy.  There  was  no  notion  of  his,  however  odd,  which 
his  mother  did  not  gratify,  and  though  Mr.  Fox  was  far  from  ap 
proving  such  a  course,  he  held  his  counsel  for  the  sake  of  peace. 
That  exhibition  of  energy  which  had  astonished  the  whole  house 
hold  was  too  antagonistic  to  his  character  to  last  any  length  of  time. 
It  had  indeed  come  to  a  speedy  terminus  and  Mr.  Fox  had  resumed 
his  old  habit  of  rather  yielding  and  avoiding  than  by  decision  rul 
ing.  Only  in  regard  to  Dolores  he  was  determined  to  make  an  ex 
ception  ;  but  as  the  prudent  little  creature  had  quickly  read  his  dis 
position  she  took  good  care  to  give  him  no  occasion  for  the  scenes 
of  strife  and  dispute  he  shunned  so  much.  She  had  resolved  rather 
to  suffer  herself  than  to  make  him  suffer,  and  many  were  the  taunts 
and  jeers  and  insults  she  received  from  Mrs.  Fox  and  her  son  which 
she  bore  in  patience,  without  even  in  the  least  intimating  their  ex 
istence  to  her  friend  and  protector.  This  was  meant  kindly,  but  for 
Mr.  Fox's  reformation  it  certainly  was  unfortunate.  Practice  makes 
perfect,  says  the  adage,  and  the  practice  wanting,  Mr.  Fox  remained 
a  bungler  in  the  art  of  ruling. 

We  have  neither  the  time  nor  the  disposition  to  dwell  on  the 
method  of  torture  which  the  enemies  of  Dolores  applied  in  her 
case,  nor  to  describe  the  thousand  little  tricks  by  which  they  en 
deavored  to  make  her  uncomfortable  ;  the  words  containing  poi 
son,  the  eyes  looking  daggers,  the  miens  conveying  jeers. 


58  DOLORES. 

There  is  little  pleasure  in  painting  in  detail  human  wickedness  ; 
but  it  is  perfectly  intolerable  if  it  bears  upon  the  innocence  of 
childhood.  Fortunately,  Dolores  had  been  provided  by  nature 
with  various  weapons  of  defense.  The  attempts  of  Mrs.  Fox  she 
always  met  with  that  sweet  forbearance  which  in  itself  is  more 
calculated  to  lame  the  arm  of  the  assailant  than  resistance,  though 
as  yet  her  conduct  had  not  lessened  the  disposition  of  that  woman 
to  abuse  her,  it  had  at  least  on  various  occasions  driven  the 
blush  of  shame  and  confusion  into  her  cheeks.  Master  Robert, 
however,  Dolores  met  with  other  weapons.  The  threat  of  Mr.  Fox 
had  effectually  stopped  that  young  man's  attempts  to  inflict  cor 
poral  punishment  on  the  little  girl.  The  only  way  in  which  he 
now  could  annoy  her  was  to  abuse  her  in  words  and  this  was  a 
mode  of  warfare  in  which  she  was  more  than  a  match  for  him.  Re 
turning  irony  for  scorn,  tho'  never  leaving  the  precincts  of  de- 
corum,  which  her  adversary  totally  disregarded,  she  would  soon 
turn  the  point  and  from  the  position  of  the  one  assailed  change 
to  that  of  the  assailer.  Punishing  him  severely  by  the  keenness 
of  her  wit,  she  would  drive  him  from  corner  to  corner  until  at 
last  he  had  to  beat  an  inglorious  retreat,  hating  her  worse  than 
ever,  but  gradually  becoming  a  little  shy  to  challenge  her  to  en 
gagements  which  invariably  terminated  in  defeat. 

As  we  have  intimated  she  kept  her  annoyance  carefully  con 
cealed  from  Mr.  Fox,  but  the  constant  stress  upon  her  mind  could 
not  be  endured  without  injurious  results  for  her  health.  She 
grew  nervous  and  the  angular  form  of  her  body  became  still  more 
angular.  She  lost  both  color  and.  appetite  and  even  Mr.  Fox,  in 
different  observer  as  he  was,  could  not  help  noticing  the  change. 
His  attention  once  attracted  and  his  appreusion  roused,  he  began  to 
show  again  a  spirit  resembling  that  with  which  he  had  adopted  and 
instilled  into  his  little  foster-daughter.  Taking  her  hand  and  lead 
ing  her  to  the  very  arbor  that  had  witnessed  their  original  compact 
he  made  her  sit  down  and  looking  into  her  eyes  with  anxious  ten 
derness  said  : 

"  Dolores,  do  you  recollect  what  you  promised  me  once  at  this 
very  place?" 

"I  do,  dear  father,"  she  said  with  her  usual  sweet   expression. 


DOLORES.  59 

*'  I  felt  too  happy  at  this  place  to  ever  forget  what  was  said  be 
tween  us  here." 

"You  recollect  that  you  promised  always  to  love  me  like  a 
•daughter  ?" 

"And  haven't  I  loved  you  so  ?"  the  little  maiden  cried,  throw 
ing  her  arms  around  his  neck  and  smiling  archly.  ' '  Indeed  if  I 
tried  ever  so  hard,  I  don't  think  I  could  love  you  any  better  than 
I  do  now." 

"I  believe  you,  darling,"  he  said,  returning  her  caresses,  "  but 
Dolores,  love  begits  confidence,  and  have  you  confided  in  me  as 
you  ought  to  have  ?  Look  in  my  eyes,  child?  and  answer  that 
question." 

But  Dolores  hung  her  head,  the  victim  of  a  lively  embarrass 
ment  that  died  her  cheeks  with  scarlet  and  even  drove  the  tears 
into  her  eyes. 

' '  You  need  not  answer,  Dolores,  and  by  your  silence  confess 
your  guilt.  Instead  of  confiding  in  me  and  telling  me  that  they 
are  teasing  you  and  worrying  you  to  death,  you  bear  your  injury 
in  silence  and  let  the  paleness  of  your  cheeks  betray  the  secret 
which  your  lips  ought  to  have  imparted.  Say,  was  that  right?" 

"  Instead  of  answering  the  little  one  hung  her  head  still  deeper 
and  the  tears  came  trickling  more  copiously  from  out  her  eyes. 

"I  know  your  motives,  Dolores,"  he  resumed,  "and  they 
would  still  more  endear  you  to  my  heart  if  it  were  possible,  but  if 
I  love  ease  and  tranquility,  I  value  your  welfare  and  happiness 
infinitely  more  highly  and  would  with  cheerfulness  sacrifice  the 
former  iu  order  to  secure  the  latter.  This  cannot  be  tolerated  any 
longer  ;  but  what  must  be  done  ?  Tell  me,  shall  I  put  you  in 
some  institution  or  other  to  pursue  a  course  of  studies  ?" 

Dolores  no  longer  hung  her  head.  Raising  it  quickly  and 
energetically,  she  answered  : 

"No,  no,  father  I  will  not  leave  you.  If  they  vex  me  by  their 
enmity  you  make  me  much  more  happy  by  your  affections." 

"Heaven  knows,  I  would  not  like  to  Dart  with  you.  What  I 
proposed  was  for  your  good.  But  if  you  will  not  leave  me,  there 
must  at  least  be  some  alteration.  If  this  were  to  go  on  much 
longer,  you  would  waste  to  a  shadow  and  die  with  consumption, 
like  your  poor  father." 


60  DOLORES. 

The  girl  thought  a  moment,  then  she  said  : 

' '  You  spoke  of  studying.  I  think  if  I  could  be  allowed  to 
learn  I  would  be  happy." 

"Allowed?  Of  course,  my  good  child,  you  will  be  allowed, 
but  where  will  you  study  and  what  ?" 

"  Where?"  Dolores  said  wistfully  ;  "I  think  I  know.  There  is 
Mr.  Goodman  to  whom  Charley  Fuchs  says  his  lessons." 

"Why,  sure  enough,"  cried  Mr.  Fox,  "I  never  thought  of 
him.  He  is  a  worthy  man  and,  as  they  say,  a  good  teacher.  At 
least  he  has  made  quite  a  scholar  out  of  Charley.  Run,  Dol,  and 
get  your  hat  and  mine  ;  we  shall  see  at  once  whether  Mr.  Good 
man  will  consent  to  bother  himself  with  my  little  beauty." 

Dolores  fairly  skimmed  the  sward  as  she  ran  to  do  his  bidding. 
When  she  returned  a  minute  afterwards,  she  did  no  longer  look  the 
pining,  melancholy  child  of  the  morning.  The  old  lustre  had  re 
turned  to  her  eyes,  the  smile  to  the  corners  of  her  mouth,  and  the 
glow  of  health  to  her  cheeks.  Mr.  Fox  was  delighted  at  this 
change,  thinking  that  he  had  now  found  the  panacea  for  his  favor 
ite.  Leaving  the  park  the  pair  took  the  street  in  a  direction  oppo 
site  to  the  side  where  the  factory  lay.  Walking  through  the 
greater  part  of  the  village,  which  forms  one  long  line  along  the 
turnpike,  they  finally  reached  a  building  almost  concealed  by  the 
clusters  of  bushes  surrounding  it.  It  was  much  less  presumptuous 
than  the  mansion,  but  yet  superior  to  most  of  the  cottages  of  the 
village,  excepting  perhaps  the  house  of  Mr.  Fuchs.  It  stood  in 
close  proximity  to  a  venerable  stone  church  from  the  numerous 
cracks  of  which  ivy  and  other  creepers  were  hanging  in  beautiful 
profusion,  and  around  whose  weather-beaten  steeple  multitudes  of 
rooks  were  making  short  trips,  filling  the  air  with  their  dismal  cries. 
The  house  was  the  parsonage,  and  Mr.  Goodman,  the  gentleman 
they  were  in  search  of,  the  worthy  pastor  of  the  village.  He  was  a 
widower,  having  lost  his  wife  a  number  of  years  ago  and  now  living 
in  company  with  a  spinster  sister,  who,  unlike  most  old  maids,  had 
guarded  her  heart  from  shrinking  like  her  features.  She  kept 
house  for  her  brother,  and  was  the  oracle  of  the  village  in  every 
thing  beyond  the  margin  of  every  day  life,  and  Mr.  Fox  insisted 
that  in  consequence,  of  her  conciliatory  counsels,  the  justice  of  the 
peace  in  the  village  came  near  starving.  She  was  now  standing  in 


DOLORES.  61 

the  garden  examining  the  blue  clusters  of  grapes  which  were  ap 
proaching  ripeness  and  blinked  with  tempting  richness  at  the  pass 
ers-by.  Discerning  the  visitors  as  they  entered  the  gate,  she  went 
to  meet  them  with  her  hands  extended  and  a  genuine  hospitable 
smile  on  her  wrinkled  face. 

"Aye,  aye!  Mr.  Fox  and  my  little  Dolores  !"  she  cried,  "  rare 
but  welcome  guests.  I  thought  you  had  forgotten  us  altogether." 

"  Why,  Miss  Sarah,  you  know  the  passion  of  us  foxes  for  grapes," 
Mr.  Fox  said  with  a  cunning  twinkle  in  his  eye  and  laughing  at 
his  own  joke."  I  see  yours  are  getting  ripe,  madam." 

"  Ah!  is  that  the  reason  of  your  call  ?  "  the  damsel  said,  enter 
ing  into  the  spirit  of  his  remark;  "  then  you  really  deserve  to  fare 
like  your  namesake,  that  didn't  get  any." 

"  If  I  don't  I'll  imitate  the  fellow  still  further,  abusing  your 
grapes  all  over  the  village  and  telling  everybody  that  they  are 
sour." 

"  That  would  be  dreadful,  Mr.  Fox,  and  more  than  I  could  bear. 
I  suppose  I'll  have  to  compromise  the  matter  and  give  you  your 
share,  even  if  you  don't  deserve  it." 

"Well,  now,  that  sounds  more  reasonable,  doesn't  it,  Doll? 
Won't  we  two  pitcn  in  ?  " 

"  You  won't  to-day,  my  dear  sir,  because  they  ain't  ripe  ;  but 
come  into  the  house.  I'll  call  brother  Andrew,  he'll  be  glad  to  see 
you,  in  spite  of  your  dreadful  intentions  against  his  grapes." 

Miss  Goodman  led  the  way,  and  entering  the  house  showed  the 
guests  into  one  of  these  old  fashioned  parlors  where  comfort  was 
the  great  consideration  and  boastful  elegance  a  total  stranger.  One 
could  sit  on  the  chairs  without  fear  of  their  frail  legs  and  step  on 
the  carpet  without  risking  the  displeasure  of  the  lady  of  the  house 
for  soiling  a  handsome  flower  in  the  pattern.  Excusing  herself  Miss 
Sarah*  left  the  room,  but  shortly  afterwards  returned  with  her 
brother,  who  shook  hands  with  his  guests,  showing  the  genuine  cor 
diality  and  guileless  simplicity  which  Oliver  Goldsmith  so  beauti 
fully  depicts  in  the  parson's  colleague,  the  vicar  of  Wakefielcl.  If 
the  reader  will  kindly  allow  me  to  substitute  that  famous  portrait 
of  a  worthy  minister  for  my  own,  he  has  the  character  of  Andrew 
Goodman  to  the  letter.  No  worthier  man  ever  filled  the  pulpit  than 
he,  and  in  all  his  bearings,  be  it  as  the  preacher  of  the  gospel,  the 


62  DOLORES. 

teacher  of  his  flock,  the  visitor  of  the  sick  or  the  genial  companion 
at  the  fireside,  he  showed  an  amiability  which  was  perfectly  capti 
vating  and  caused  the  whole  village  to  look  upon  him  with  pride, 
love  and  respect. 

"  Ah  !  my  dear  Mr.  Fox,"  he  said,  with  a  touch  of  sarcasm, 
"how  fortunate  for  me  to  be  the  proprietor  of  those  handsome 
grapes.  They  secure  me  at  least  one  visit  a  year  from  your  worthy 
self." 

"  Don't  scold,  Mr.  Goodman, "Fox  replied.  "  You  somehow  are 
less  apt  at  it  than  anything  else." 

"  There  you  are  right,  Mr.  Fox,"  Miss  Sarah  interrupted,"  but 
it's  no  wonder,  for  he  attempts  it  so  very  rarely." 

"  Practice  makes  perfect,  Miss  Sarah.     However,  Mr.  Goodman 
is  perfect  in  so  many  other  things  that  he  can  well  afford  to  do 
without  the  perfection  at  scolding." 
"You'll  spoil  him  by  your  flattery." 

"  I'll  run  the  risk,  madam.  But  Mr.  Goodman,  you  were  right 
jn  blaming  me  for  having  selfish  motives  in  my  present  visit.  It  is 
not  the  grapes,  though,  that  brought  me  this  time  ;  it's  something 
worse." 

"Let  us  have  it.  After  your  warning  I  am  -prepared  to  receive 
the  shock  without  detriment  to  my  nerves." 

"Well,  sir,  I  have  the  intention  of  trespassing  on  your  valua 
ble  time.  This  little  girl  of  mine  has  conceived  the  idea  that  she 
must  needs  drink  at  the  fountain  of  knowledge,  and  that  nobody 
but  Mr.  Goodman  is  fit  to  administer  the  draught.  What  do  you 
say  now,  sir  ?  " 

' '  I  say  that  the  idea  of  stilling  the  thirst  of  a  good  little  girl 
like  Dolores  is  mcuh  more  comfortable  than  that  of  having  a  fox 
after  one's  grapes." 

"Thank  you,  sir.  Am  I  to  understand  from  your  reply  that 
you  would  really  charge  yourself  with  the  instruction  of  my  daugh 
ter?" 

"  That  is  my  intention,  sir,  and  I  can  assure  you  that,  instead 
of  being  a  trouble,  it  will  be  nothing  but  a  pleasure.  I  have  been 
watching  the  little  miss,  and  from  my  observations  and  the  praise 
of  my  pupil,  Charley  Fuchs,  I  have  an  idea  that  Dolores  will  make 
a  good  scholar." 


DOLORES.  63 

' '  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so.  I'll  leave  the  matter  entirely  to 
your  excellent  judgment.  When  do  you  want  Dotores  to  com 
mence  ?  " 

"  The  sooner  the  better.  The  fall  is  drawing  near,  and  if  you 
want  the  little  one  to  accomplish  much  before  your  removal  to 
town,  she  cannot  begin  too  soon." 

Mr.  Fox's  face  got  very  sober. 

"  It  is  a  fact,"  he  said,  "  four  more  weeks  and  our  country  life 
will  be  at  an  end.  I  hate  town,  I  do  heartily,  and  if  it  wasn't  for 
Mrs.  Fox  I  should  stay  here  all  the  year  round." 

"  Well,  Mr.  Fox,  I  share  your  views,"  Miss  Sarah  remarked; 
"  if  I  were  to  stay  in  town  a  single  winter  I  think  I'd  die  with  suf 
focation.  I  pity  the  little  ones  on  account  of  their  confinement." 

' 'Oh!  Lucy  and  Dick  are  used  to  it ;  they  even  share  their 
mother's  liking  for  town." 

' '  But  this  little  one  ;  won't  she  feel  like  a  bird  in  a  cage  ?  " 

"  I  fear  she  will,  and  that,  too,  like  one  picked  at  by  mischiev 
ous  cat-birds." 

"  Why,  I  do  not  understand  you,  Mr.  Fox,"  the  parson  re 
marked,  with  some  wonderment  in  his  voice.  "  What  does  your 
smile  signify  ?  " 

Mr.  Fox  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Mr.  Goodman,  I  wouldn't  tell  everybody,  but  with  you  I'm 
safe  enough.  Did  you  ever  notice  that  there  is  some  opposition  in 
the  mansion  to  this  little  one  ?  " 

The  parson  nodded. 

' '  I  sometimes  thought  as  much,  but  from  charity  discredited  my 
supposition.  If  Dolores  is  disliked  by  your  family  her  residence  in 
town  will  surely  be  unpleasant." 

"  Unpleasant  is  hardly  strong  enough  a  term.  Still,  what  ami 
to  do  ?  I  cannot  leave  the  girl  alone  in  the  big  empty  house  with 
the  servants." 

"  Hardly,"  Miss  Sarah  replied,  "  but  if  I  knew  that  brother  An 
drew  would  concur,  I  think  I  could  find  an  expedient." 

Mr.  Goodman  smiled. 

"  I  think  I  do  anticipate  your  proposition.     At  all  events  you 

can  make  none  that  wTould  not  meet  with  my  hearty  approbation.'* 

"  Thank  you,  Andrew.     I  thought  if  you  would  agree,  and  Mr. 


64  DOLORES. 

Fox  be  willing  to  part  with  his  charge  during  the  winter  months,  it 
would  give  fts  much  pleasure  to  receive  the  little  girl  into  our 
household  during  that  time." 

Mr.  Goodman  nodded  with  a  mien  that  seemed  to  say  : 

( '  Exactly  !  that's  what  I  expected  and  suits  me  to  perfection. 
Such  a  dear  little  creature  will  lighten  up  our  sombre  house." 

Dolores  looked  shy.  She  moved  nearer  to  Mr.  Fox  and  took 
his  hand. 

"They  may  be  very  good  people,"  her  motion  said,  "  but  they 
ain't  my  dear  foster  father  after  all." 

Mr.  Fox  was  much  affected  by  this  unexpected  kindness.  It 
really  relieved  him  of  a  load  of  doubt  and  anxiety  which  the  very 
thought  of  removing  Dolores  to  the  narrow  sphere  of  his  winter  res 
idence,  where  she  would  be  much  more  exposed  to  the  malice  of 
her  adversaries,  had  created.  Rising  and  taking  the  lady's  hand, 
he  said  : 

"  Miss  Sarah,  that  is  just  like  you,  but  much  more  than  I  had 
a  right  to  expect.  From  the  bottom  of  my  heart  I  thank  you  for 
your  offer,  and  accept  it  on  condition  that  you  will  allow  a  compen 
sation  for  the  outlay  occasioned  by  Dolores'  presence." 

"  Never  mind  the  compensation,"  Mr.  Goodwin  said  ;  "  that  is 
a  secondary  matter.  We  forget  that  Dolores  is  also  a  party  to  the 
agreement.  Her  countenance  does  not  look  as  if  she  liked  it  very 
much." 

The  face  of  the  girl  was  indeed  much  clouded  up,  and  tears 
were  shining  in  the  corners  of  her  eyes  ;  but  Mr.  Goodman's  words 
had  a  wonderful  effect  upon  her.  Checking  her  feelings  with  that 
strong  will  we  have  noticed  in  the  girl  before,  she  tried  to  smile, 
and  with  considerable  firmness  said  : 

11  Of  course  I  wouldn't  like  to  leave  my  dear,  good  father,  and  I 
was  sorry  for  a  little  while  when  you  talked  about  it ;  very  sorry, 
indeed.  But  I  know  also  that  he  wouldn't  want  to  leave  me  here 
if  it  were  not  for  my  good.  So  I  won't  be  sorry  any  more  ;  at  least 
I'll  try  not  to." 

Mr.  Fox  looked  at  the  others  with  an  inquiring  glance. 

"Just  as  I  thought,"  he  said.  "Just  as  I  expected  my  little 
daughter  to  speak.  Mr.  Goodman,  I  never  saw  the  like  of  it  ; 
always  right,  always  sensible  ;  she  has  a  wonderful  perception  of 


DOLORES.  65 

propriety.  Nor  can  she  be  spoiled,  either,  or  I  wouldn't  praise  her 
to  her  face.  I  praise  the  day  that  bestowed  this  gift  upon  me." 

Dolores  hung  her  head.  It  was  evident  that  she  was  less  fond 
of  praise  than  of  doing  right.  Mr.  Goodman  looked  at  her  approv 
ingly  and  Sarah  stroked  her  hair,  which,  however,  would  not  be 
straightened  out,  but  with  a  rebellious  obstinacy  always  sprung 
back  into  its  original  curly  condition. 

"  She  is  a  good  girl,"  the  damsel  said,  "  and  it  shall  be  my  en 
deavor  to  make  her  miss  her  good  papa  as  little  as  possible.  Our 
house  is  a  little  quiet  and  old  fashioned,  but  I  think  Dolores  will 
like  it  well  enough." 

* '  At  any  rate  she  has  a  respite  of  four  weeks,  and  in  that  time 
will  get  to  know  us  better,"  Mr.  Goodman  suggested.  "  I  think, 
like  Sarah,  that  we  shall  succeed  in  reconciling  the  young  lady  to 
her  fate." 

"Reconcile?"  Mr.  Fox  replied.  "I  think  she  will  be  recon 
ciled.  I  have  half  a  notion  to  make  you  certify  in  writing  that  I 
merely  lend  you  the  child  ;  for  when  I  return  in  the  spring  she'll 
be  so  fond  of  you  and  the  parsonage  that  I'll  have  difficulty  in  coax 
ing  her  back  to  the  mansion." 

This  was  said  jestingly  and  with  the  purpose  of  giving  the  con 
versation  a  cheerful  turn,  but  Dolores  took  it  in  earnest  and  would 
have  piptested  if  the  others  had  let  her.  As  it  was  Sarah  proposed 
a  ramble  over  the  house  an^  the  ground,  to  which  the  child  as 
sented.  By  the  side  of  her  new  friend  and  prospective  foster- 
mother  she  started  on  her  tour,  weich  gave  her  much  pleasure  and 
soon  put  her  on  familiar  terms  with  the  spinster.  They  saw  the 
house  and  the  yard  and  the  out-buildings,  with  the  fowls  and  cows 
and  •  other  stock  ;  they  walked  through  the  flower  and  vegetable 
gardens,  which  distinguished  themselves  by  taste  and  neatness, 
spurning  the  very  thought  of  weeds.  Dolores  had  seen  gardening 
on  a  larger  scale  at  the  mansion,  but  what  those  of  the  parsonage 
lacked  in  size  they  made  up  in  taste  and  neatness,  so  that  Sarah's 
fear  of  a  disparaging  comparison  was  entirely  unfounded.  Dolores 
was  pleased,  and  her  honest  countenance  showed  as  plainly  as  could 
be  that  her  tongue  did  not  dissemble.  Encouraged  by  the  little 
girl's  tokens  of  enjoyment,  Miss  Sarah  extended  their  ramble  to  the 
adjacent  church,  showing  her  first  the  grounds,  which  were  no 


66  DOLORES. 

longer  used  for  burying  purposes,  and  then  the  edifice  itself.  Climb 
ing  the  winding  stairs  that  led  into  the  steeple  they  stepped  upon  a 
gallery  from  which  a  view — the  most  charming  one  of  all  her  ex 
perience,  Dolores  declared — met  their  eyes,  showing  not  only  the 
beautiful  valley  in  whose  midst  the  church  was  lying,  but  also  the 
blue  expanse  of  the  ocean  to  the  far  and  almost  invisible  line  where 
sky  and  water  kissed  each  other.  From  the  gallery  they  could  look 
over  the  intervening  clusters  of  trees  and  see  the  craggy  shore  of 
the  little  bay  from  where  the  ocean  penetrated  into  the  coast  and 
where  the  restless,  never  weary  waves  had  eaten  out  the  softer  parts 
of  the  i  ocks,  leaving  the  harder  ribs  standing  in  the  most  fantastic 
forms  and  shapes.  To-day,  with  such  mild  and  pleasant  weather,  it 
required  some  stretch  of  imagination  to  realize  that  these  gentle  rip 
pling  waves  should  have  been  able  to  reach  the  top  of  those  tower 
ing  crags,  and,  more  than  that,  eaten  out  a  considerable  portion  of 
their  substance  ;  but  Miss  Sarah  warned  Dolores  not  to  form  an 
idea  of  the  sea  by  a  summer's  sojourn  on  the  coast.  It  would  be  an 
erroneous  one,  she  said,  and  the  blasts  of  winter  would  soon  rectify 
the  wrong  impression.  But  who  could  think  of  storms  and  desola 
tion  when  all  nature  breathed  joy  and  tranquility  ?  Dolores  could 
not  tire  of  looking  at  the  little  bay,  forming  a  rather  precarious  har 
bor  and  containing  that  afternoon  a  dozen  fishing  vessels  and  quite 
a  number  of  smaller  crafts  of  various  descriptions,  from  tjae  boat 
with  mast  and  sail  down  to  the  nutshell  of  a  skiff  propelled  merely 
by  means  of  oars.  The  girl's  eyes  w7ould  not  withdraw  from  the 
pretty  picture,  but  pointing  out  to  her  companion  one  beauty  after 
another  she  got  quite  excited.  This  excitement,  however,  got  to- 
its  climax  when  all  at  once  she  saw  a  sailing  boat  draw  its  graceful 
furrows  through  the  water,  which  she  recognized  as  that  of  Charles 
and  Henry  Fuchs.  Two  young  men  were  in  the  craft,  and  although 
the  distance  wras  two  great  to  recognize  the  features,  the  size  and 
the  suits  of  the  boys  left  Dolores  no  doubt  that  the  brothers  were 
in  the  vessel. 

"It  is  Charles!"  she  cried,  making  no  mention  at  all  of  the 
second  figure  and  thereby  unconsciously  showing  her  predilection; 
"it is  Charles  sailing  in  his  craft.  He  showed  it  to  me  the  other 
day  and  promised  to  take  me  out  and  he  must  do  it  too,  for,  oh> 
see  Miss  Sarah,  isn't  it  beautiful?" 


DOLORES.  67 

Miss  Sarah  agreed  and  indulged  her  young  friend  as  long  as  pos 
sible.  When  she  thought  it  time  to  return  to  the  house  she  only 
needed  to  say  that  Mr.  Fox  would  be  waiting ;  for  no  sooner  had 
the  words  left  her  lips  when  the  little  girl  hastened  down  stairs, 
taking  two  steps  at  a  time,  making  it  a  hard  task  for  Miss  Sarah 
to  keep  up.  This  also  the  considerate  little  creature  did  see  and 
stopping  to  await  the  damsel's  arrival,  apologized  for  her  want  of 
consideration.  Miss  Sarah  was  much  pleased  ;  she  congratulated 
herself  upon  her  splendid  idea  of  receiving  this  little  girl  with  the 
bright  understanding  and  sensative  perception  into  her  household. 
It  is  a  pleasure  to  manage  clever,  docile  children,  and  Sarah,  in 
guiding  this  gifted  girl,  anticipated  the  same  pleasure,  though  in 
a  higher  sense,  which  the  horseman  experiences  in  the  reining  of  a 
steed  of  delicate  mouth,  which  feels  and  obeys  the  slightest  pull  of 
the  rein  ;  or  the  sailor  in  the  craft  that  spins  like  a  top  on  her 
heels,  minds  the  helm  in  fair  weather  and  foul  and  dives  through 
the  salty  element  like  the  duck  in  search  of  fish. 

When  the  two  reached  the  parlor  they  found  it  empty.  The 
parson  and  his  guest  had  long  ago  settled  the  question  regarding 
Dolores'  instruction,  and,  in  imitation  of  the  ladies,  left  the  house 
in  search  of  nature  and  her  beauties.  Sarah  and  her  charge  found 
them  walking  the  very  covered  archway  whose  fruit  had  furnished 
the  topic  of  the  innocent  bandinage  we  have  recorded  on  a  pre 
vious  occasion.  They  heard  Mr.  Fox  say  : 

"You  may  draw  on  me  for  $100,  sir,  in  support  of  your  benevo 
lent  efforts.  In  fact  you  will  always  find  me  ready  to  aid  you  in 
any  project  of  charity  according  to  my  means  A  man  that  has  a 
little  money  ought  surely  not  to  hesitate  to  give  in  a  cause  where 
his  betters  spend  time  and  comfort  and  health.  No  thanks,  sir  ;  I 
should  feel  ashamed  to  receive  it.  But,  ah,  there  are  the  ladies. 
Dolores,  Mr.  Goodman  has  kindly  consented  to  take  you  in  charge 
as  early  as  to-morrow.  He  will  furnish  you  with  such  books  as 
you  may  need.  And  now  good  bye,  my  friends.  Am  I  not  to  be 
envied  ?  I  need  neither  say  :  fare  gently  with  my  child,  nor  on 
the  other  hand,  honor  the  precepts  of  thy  teacher,  for  wisdom 
floweth  therefrom.  Both  these  wishes  are  a  fixed  fact,  a  matter  of 
course.  Good  bye,  good  bye." 


68  DOLORES. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    TEMPTER. 

The  same  afternoon  another  scene  was  being  enacted  at  the  man 
sion  which  it  is  ray  duty  to  describe,  tho'  I  do  not  take  much 
pleasure  in  making  the  attempt.  The  public  are  as  much  blase  in 
their  reading  as  in  most  other  things,  and  to  satisfy  them,  villains 
of  the  deepest  dye,  their  doings  and  their  victims  must  be  de 
picted.  Nothing  less  than  foul  murders,  villainous  plots,  hair 
breadth  escapes  and  seductions  will  answer,  and  the  fair  readers 
seem  to  forget  altogether  that,  to  make  us  write  all  these  things, 
however  true  and  natural,  they  condemn  us  to  a  close  companion 
ship  with  people  who  are  anything  but  preposessing.  They  make 
us  breathe,  as  it  were,  the  foul  air  of  their  dens,  listen  to  their 
low  language,  familiarize  ourselves  with  their  mode  of  thinking 
and  feeling,  and  perhaps  in  that  way  subject  us  to  the  danger  of  a 
slight  taint  adhering  to  our  own  person,  and  of  assuming  traits 
which  we  pretend  to  abhor,  and  to  paint  merely  in  order  to  have 
them  abhorred  by  others  and  presented  as  a  warning  example  to 
the  weak  and  simple.  Still,  as  my  tale  requires  it  and  no  reason 
ing  of  mine  is  likely  'to  effect  a  change  in  the  public  taste  very 
soon,  I  may  as  wrell  go  to  work  and  bring  before  my  readers'  eye  a 
man  whom  the  world  regards  as  a  model  gentleman,  but  whom 
they  may  now  classify  according  to  their  own  conceptions  of  right 
and  wrong. 

"  Susan,  where  is  Mr.  Fox?" 

"  Gone  out,  Mr.  Wood,  with  Miss  Dolores." 

"  Miss  indeed  !"  and  Mrs.  Fox." 

"  Is  dressing  for  a  ride.  I  heard  her  bid  Richard  to  have  the 
brown  mare  hitched  to  the  new  buggy." 

"  Very  well,  Susan  ;  when  she  comes  down  stairs,  tell  her  I  am 
in  the  parlor." 

Mr.  Wood  deposited  his  hat  on  the  rack  and  went  into  the  room 
where  about  ten  minutes  afterwards  he  was  joined  by  the  mistress 
of  the  house. 

"  Ah  !  cousin  Richard,"  she  said  with  a  smile,  offering  him  her 
gloved  hand,  "  a  rare  guest,  indeed.  I  haven't  seen  you  for  a  cen- 


DOLORES.  69 

t'ury  and  am  therefore  doubly  sorry  not  to  be  able  to  enjoy  your 
visit.  I  am  going  to  drive  to  .town  to  do  a  little  shopping.  Will 
you  kindly  excuse  me  ?" 

"  Who  is  to  take  you,  Caroline  ?" 

"  Why,  Dick  ;  I  hear  him  driving  the  buggy  before  the  house, 
even." 

"  Let  us  go  out  then,  I  don't  want  to  keep  you  waiting." 

As  the  two  stepped  on  the  portico  they  saw  Richard,  Jr.,  sit 
ting  in  the  buggy,  whip  in  hand,  his  face  radiant  with  the  expecta 
tion  of  the  drive. 

"  Dicky,  my  boy,"  Mr.  Wood  addressed  him,  "  I  have  a  favor 
to  ask." 

"What  is  it  uncle?" 

"  I  want  you  to  give  me  your  seat  in  the  buggy." 

The  boy's  mein  grew  sullen. 

"I  won't  do  it,  sir,"  he  said  shortly. 

Mrs.  Fox  looked  inquiringly  at  Mr.  Wood. 

"I  think  you  will,  Dick,"  that  gentleman  said,  "as  soon  as 
you  have  heard  the  rest  of  my  proposition.  If  you  will  give  me 
your  seat  in  the  buggy,  I  shall  give  you  a  note  to  George  to  the 
effect  that  he  may  saddle  my  pony  for  you  and  give  you  my  new 
gun,  so  that  you  may  ride  and  hunt  at  the  same  time." 

Mr.  AVood  knew  that  the  boy  fancied  his  pony  more  than  all 
the  horses  in  his  own  stable,  but  to  make  the  offer  irresistable,  he 
added  that  of  the  new  gun  which  Richard  thus  far  had  never  been 
allowed  to  touch.  The  effect  was  as  marked  as  sudden.  Jumping 
from  his  seat  the  boy  cried  eagerly  : 

"Agreed,  sir  ;  hurry  up  and  write  me  the  note." 

Wood  did,  his  bidding  ;  tearing  a  leaf  from  his  diary,  he  pen 
cilled  a  few  hasty  lines.  Handing  the  paper  to  the  boy,  he  signi 
fied  to  Mrs.  Fox  his  readiness  to  assume  his  duties  as  cavalier  at 
tendant.  The  lady  said  nothing,  but  taking  her  seat  in  the  car 
riage  and  allowing  him  the  place  at  her  side,  she  suffered  him  to 
drive  from  the  park  into  the  road,  without  asking  an  explanation 
of  his  conduct.  Still,  Avhen  they  had  passed  the  factory  and  Wood 
seemed  exclusively  engaged  with  the  management  of  the  horse, 
she  remarked  : 

"Richard,  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?     I  didn't  interfere  in 


70  DOLORES. 

your  bargain  with  my  boy,  because  I  know  that  you  are  not  the 
man  to  do  a  thing  without  a  cause.  •  But  yet  your  explanation  is 
not  forthcoming  and  I  must  confess  that  I  am  curious  to  receive 
it." 

"Patience,  Caroline,'  he  answered,  "my  explanation  was  com 
ing  ;  but  I  have  to  tell  you  so  many  things  to-day  and,  things  of 
such  importance,  that  I  was  arranging  them  in  my  mind,  in  order 
not  to  forget  any  of  them.  Now  I  am  prepared." 

He  broke  off,  but  after  a  few  moments  he  resumed  : 

"  Let  me  go  back  a  piece  Caroline  ;  back  to  the  time  when  you 
and  I  were  children;  children  of  poor  parents,  but  happy  withal. 
We  were  constant  playmates,  and  there  was  nothing  of  which 
Richard  Wood  was  more  fond  and  proud  than  of  his  cousin  Caro 
line.  Was  it  not  so,  madam  ?" 

Mrs.  Fox  seemed  somewhat  uneasy,  even  annoyed  by  his  way 

"  Maybe  it  was,  Richard,"  she  answered,  "but  what  is  the  use 
of  calling  up  these  recollections?  If  tkat  was  your  only  pur 
pose — " 

"  Stop,  Caroline,  do  not  form  hasty  conclusions.  I  said  that 
Richard  Wood  was  fond  and  proud  of  his  cousin  and  his  fondness 
grew  with  his  years.  I  was  a  passionate  boy,  you  know,  and 
when  my  fondness  changed  into  love  it  was  no  common  passion, 
but  one  that  rooted  deeply  in  my  soul  and  <>ould  not  be  torn  out 
but  at  the  expense  of  life." 

"But,  Richard — "  the  lady  said  with  evident  uneasiness  ;  "your 
words  are  painful  to  me,  please  desist — 

"  Desist?  Why,  Caroline,  you  might  as  well  order  Vesivus  to 
stop,  when  with  a  mighty  inner  pressure  he  bursts  the  bowels  of 
the  earth,  hurling  rocks  and  lava  to  the  sky.  No,  madam,  I  have 
been  silent  long  enough  and  even  if  I  wished  to  remain  so  longer  I 
could  not.  Painful  ?  what  does  it  matter.  You  may  well  afford 
endure  a  moment's  pain  after  the  long  years  of  suffering  you  have 
caused  me." 

Mrs.  Fox  said  nothing,  though  it  was  evident  that  she  was  the 
prey  of  conflicting  emotions. 

"Yes,  I  loved  you  deeply,  sincerely,  passionately  then,  and  if 
you  had  consented  to  be  mine,  I  would  have  been  like  wax  in  your 
hands  and  you  might  have  made  an  honest  man  of  me,  you  might 


DOLORES.  71 

have  even  inspired  me  to  great  achievements  and  enabled  me  to 
write  my  name  on  the  tablets  of  fame." 

Again  he  paused  ;  but  if  he  expected  a  reply  he  was  mistaken. 
Mrs.  Fox  sat  still  and  motionless,  with  her  head  averted,  only  the 
violent  trembling  of  her  hands  betraying  her  deep  emotion. 

"You  chose  the  contrary,"  he  resumed,  "and  by  casting  me 
me  off  sealed  my  fate.  My  passion  which,  if  requitted,  would  have 
made  me  foremost  among  the  good,  drove  me  irresistibly  to  wicked 
thoughts  and  evil  practices  when  spurned." 

"Richard,"  she  now  broke  in  with  a  faltering  voice,  "your 
memory  serves  you  wrong,  for  your  love  was  not  spurned,  only — " 

"Oh!  I  remember  well  enough,"  he  said  bitterly,  "you  said 
you  loved  me  in  return  but  you  had  more  ambition  than  love. 
You  ridiculed  the  idea  of  love  in  a  hut  and  insisted  upon  the  ne 
cessity  of  wealth  and  position  to  keep  love  alive  and  prevent  it 
from  becoming  a  bane  instead  of  a  blessing.  You  bade  me  wait 
and  strive,  and  while  I  waited  and  strove  you  accepted  the  hand  of 
a  man  you  did  not  love,  because  he  offered  you  at  once  what  with 
me  lay  ia  a  distant  and  very  uncertain  future. 

"  I  shall  not  dwell  upon  the  period  of  wretchedness  that  fol 
lowed  your  marriage,"  he  continued,  when  she  did  not  reply,  "  I 
shall  not  tell  you  of  the  awful  thoughts  of  suicide,  of  murder  to 
which  I  then  fell  prey.  Yes,  your  life  and  his  were  in  imminent 
danger  for  months  in  succession,  and  if  I  spared  you  it  was  because 
my  hope  refused  to  die  and  because  my  vengence  was  not  satisfied 
with  the  mere  death  of  him  that  shut  on  me  the  gates  of  paradise. 
I  lived  and  suffered  him  to  live  in  order  to  henceforth  entertain  no 
other  thoughs  no  other  purpose  but  vengence.  For  that  purpose  I 
sold  myself  into  his  service,  worked  for  him  day  and  night  and 
played  the  faithful  friend,  to  gain  his  confidence  and  thus  the 
power  to  destroy  him.  Vengence  was  my  meat  and  drink,  ven 
gence  and  another  passion.  Caroline,  when  you,  a  bride,  stepped 
from  your  father's  house  and  saw  despair  in  your  wretched  cousin's 
eye,  you  took  his  hand  and  whispered  into  his  ear  a  word  of  conso 
lation  which  alone  prevented  him  from  turning  mad.  Caroline, 
say,  do  you  recollect  f 

He  tried  to  catch  her  eye,  but  failed. 

"You  must  remember,"  he  continued,  "for  I  cannot  believe 


72  DOLORES. 

that  wanton  cruelty  could  have  dictated  those  words  of  comfort. 
You  said  :  "live,  love  and  hope f.  Well,  Caroline,  I  have  lived,  I 
have  hoped,  I  still  love  as  ardently  as  ever  ;  say,  will  my  patience 
be  rewarded?" 

Mrs.  Fox  was  evidently  crushed  by  this  confession  and  the  ex 
pectation  connected  with  it. 

"  O,  Richard  !"  she  cried,  "  this  comes  so  unexpectedly.  After 
a  long  silence  of  sixteen  years,  this  passionate  avowal.  How  can 
you  hold  the  wife,  the  mother  of  grown  children,  responsible  for 
the  foolish  promise  of  a  thoughtless  girl." 

"  Thoughtless  you  were  not,  Caroline.  A  girl  who  can  disre 
gard  the  dictates  of  her  heart  and  sell  herself  for  mammon  is  not 
thoughtless.  Nor  can  this  my  avowal  come  altogether  unexpected. 
Has  not  my  life  during  these  sixteen  years  of  slavery  been  one  act 
of  devotion  and  fidelity  to  you  ?  Have  I  not  on  all  occasions  taken 
care  of  your  interest  at  the  expense  of  his  ?  Have  I  not  endeavored 
to  accumulate  large  sums  which  at  any  moment  are  at  your  dis 
posal  ?" 

u  I  think  by  dividing  these  sums  with  you  I  have  fairly  paid 
you  for  your  services,"  she  said  with  a  slight  touch  of  sarcasm. 

"Paid?  no,  you  have  not  paid  me,  for  what  is  money  to  me 
without  you  to  share  it?  When  I  agreed  to  take  my  portion,  it 
was  merely  to  gain  your  consent  for  the  measure  and  to  invest  it 
for  you  as  a  faithful  steward." 

"  But  Richard,  this  sudden  disclosure  almost  overwhelms  me  ; 
why  do  you  speak  now,  after  so  long  a  silence  ?" 

"  Because  I  knew  that  you  wanted  gold,  and  that  without  it  you 
you  would  reject  me  as  readily  now  as  sixteen  years  ago.  To  gain 
you  I  needed  gold,  and  to  get  gold  I  have  plotted  hard,  using  fair 
means  an  foul  and  now  after  a  servitude  longer  than  Jacob's  I  step 
before  you,  to  receive  no  compensation  ;  am  I  to  be  cheated  out  of 
it  r 

His  language  became  threatening,  but  it  did  not  displease  Mrs. 
Fox.  She  had  something  in  her  nature  which  understood  such 
fierce  wooing,  and  perhaps  was  fascinated  more  by  it  than  she 
would  have  been  by  sweet  and  flattering  persuasion.  She  disliked 
her  husband  for  nothing  more  than  his  easy,  yielding  disposition, 
though,  strange  contradiction,  she  was  ever  ready  to  benefit  by  it 


DOLORES.  73 

and  rule  him  with  a  rod  of  iron.  There  was  undoubtedly  a  con 
genial  element  in  the  pair  now  driving  in  that  buggy,  and  if  she 
hesitated  to  grant  his  wishes,  it  was  more  the  fear  of  the  censure  of 
the  world  that  would  fall  on  the  guilty  wife  than  any  serious 
scruple  of  her  conscience.  So,  wavering  between  the  wish  to 
gratify  him  and  the  fear  of  the  unavoidable  consequences  of  such 
a  step,  she  said  : 

"  But  Richard,  be  reasonable  !  Consider  what  you  ask.  *  Re 
member  what  abuse  the  world  would  heap  upon  the  faithless  wife 
and  mother." 

"They  would  say  nothing,  Caroline,  for  do  you  think  that  I 
would  expose  the  woman  of  my  love  to  idle  gossip  ?  No,  let  me 
see  to  that  ;  only  requit  my  love  and  I'll  shelter  you  against  the 
world." 

"  How  can  you  avoid  such  censure,  Richard  ?  If  I  were  weak 
enough  to  follow  your  dictates  and  those  of  my  silly  heart,  how 
could  you  avoid  exposing  me  to  the  censure  of  the  public?" 

"  Let  that  be  my  care,  Caroline.  If  you  belong  to  me,  I  shall 
have  strength  and  cunning  sufficient  to  accomplish  anything." 

"  Then — you — you  do  not — do  not  propose  to  take  me  from  my 
home  " 

Shame  was  as  yet  alive  and  made  her  stammer,  but  *  it  is  only 
the  first  step  that  costs,'  the  adage  says,  and  when  we  see  the  fallen 
women  again  we  shall  no  longer  notice  .the  blush  of  shame  upon 
her  cheek. 

"Not  for  the  present,  Caroline.  My  plans  are  not  mature  ; 
though  the  time  may  not  be  far  distant  when  I  can  claim  you 
openly  and  fearlessly  before  the  world." 

"But  Richard  how  can  I  dare  to  step  before  him  and  my  child 
ren  with  a  guilty  conscience  ?  I'd  sink  into  the  ground  with 
shame." 

' '  Before  that  dolt ;  before  a  man  who  is  no  man,  whom  you 
cannot  help  despising  with  all  your  heart  ?  Come,  dear  Caroline, 
you  surely  are  not  weak  enough  for  that !" 

Thus  he  spoke  to  her,  now  flattering  and  persuading,  now  using 
threats  and  fierce  exclamations,  until  at  last  he  reached  his  object. 
Indeed  the  battle  was  not  very  obstinate  ;  a  woman  ready  to  scorn 
and  ridicule  her  husband  will  not  be  slow  to  dishonor  him. 


74  DOLORES. 

That  evening  Mrs.  Fox  did  not  return  to  her  home  the  unpol 
luted  wife  she  had  left  it. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

AN   ADVENTURE. 

It  was  now  late  in  October,  and  Dolores  had  just  taken  her 
abode  in  the  parsonage.  Usually  the  family  of  the  mansion  had 
left  for  town  three  weeks  sooner  ;  but  this  time  for  a  wonder  Mrs. 
Fox  had  been  the  cause  of  delay.  She  seemed  all  at  once  to  take 
an  interest  in  nature  which  had  never  been  noticed  in  her  before, 
and  almost  daily  planned  excursions  into  the  ^irrounding  country. 
Mr.  Fox  also  loved  nature,  but  not  exactly  in  his  wife's  company, 
and  felt  grateful  to  Mr.  Wood  for  offering  to  take  charge  of  her  on 
such  occasions.  He  preferred  to  stroll  about  with  Lucy  and 
Dolores,  the  latter  of  which  had  by  this  time  plunged  into  her 
studies  with  a  zest  that  promised  great  results.  She  had  recovered 
her  buoyant  spirits  and  even  gained  more  flesh  than  she  had  lost, 
and  when  Mr.  Fox  told  her  how  proud  he  was  of  her  on  account  of 
Mr.  Goodman's  praise,  a  perfect  radiance  lit  up  her  countenance. 
Besides,  she  thought  she  .noticed  a  change  in  Mrs.  Fox's  conduct 
toward  her,  and  the  hope  of  sooner  or  later  gaining  her  love  con 
tributed  much  to  her  present  happiness. 

Now,  however,  they  had  all  left,  and  Dolores  shared  the  com 
pany  of  the  minister  and  his  sister.  True,  the  parting  from  her 
foster-father  had  made  her  sad  ;  but  she  had  already  learned  to  love 
and  respect  her  new  friends  by  that  time,  and  the  assurance  of  an 
-early  reunion  would  not  suffer  her  to  be  dejected  any  length  of 
time.  Indeed,  she  had  no  leisure  for  sadness.  Her  studies  were  so 
interesting,  and  nature,  in  spite  of  the  lateness  of  the  season,  was 
so  beautiful !  In  fact,  its  beauty  had  rather  increased  than  dimin 
ished,  for  Jack  Frost  had  already  at  nights  bitten  the  leaves  of  the 
trees  and  thus  clothed  them  in  their  magnificent  dresses  of  gold  and 
scarlet  and  purple  and  brown.  They  were  evidently  enjoying  their 
carnival  before  a  long  winter. 


DOLORES.  75 

The  nuts  were  ripe,  and  in  spare  hours  Dolores,  in  the  company 
of  gallant  Charles  Fuchs,  would  scour  the  woods  and  return  with 
heavy  baskets  full  of  the  precious  fruit  that  was  to  shorten  the  long 
evening  hours  of  winter.  The  intimacy  between  the  pair,  which  a 
similar  disposition  had  created,  had  been  enhanced  by  the  pursuit 
of  kindred  studies.  True,  Charles  was  far  in  advance  of  Dolores, 
but  they  had  the  same  teacher,  studied  in  the  same  room,  and,  what 
was  more,  possessed  the  same  thirst  for  knowledge.  It  was  really 
wonderful  to  see  what  progress  Dolores  made.  The  child  did  not 
appear  to  acquire  by  any  effort :  the  knowledge  seemed  to  lie  within 
her,  and  only  to  require  the  touch  of  the  teacher's  magic  wand  to 
spring  into  sight.  To  say  that  Mr.  Goodman  was  surprised  would 
hardly  describe  that  gentleman's  emotion.  He  was  amazed  ;  he  did 
not  understand  it,  but  could  only  second  Mr.  Fox's  statement  when 
that  gentleman  had  said  :  "It  lies  within  her  ;  she  is  as  good  as 
wise,  a  perfect  little  wonder."  Yet  she  was  childlike  withal,  not 
one  of  your  precocious  creatures  whose  maturity  is  produced  by  the 
sting  of  the  worm  eating  its  way  to  the  core.  Her  amiability  cap 
tivated  all  with  whom  she  came  in  contact,  and  Charles,  who  had 
no  sisters,  doted  upon  her  with  the  fondness  of  a  brother.  Though 
reserved  and  even  somewhat  domineering  to  other  children,  includ 
ing  Henry — the  consequence  of  the  homage  involuntarily  paid  by 
inferior  minds  to  those  superior — he  was  all  gentleness  and  atten 
tion  to  Dolores,  humoring  her  wishes  and  even  guessing  those  she 
hesitated  to  express. 

Thus  far  they  had  not  found  a  chance  to  carry  out  the  long 
cherished  plan  of  a  sailing  excursion  in  Charlie's  boat  ;  but  as  the 
season  was  getting  late,  bringing  squally  weather  and  sudden 
changes,  they  agreed  that  the  next  fair  day  should  be  made  a  holi 
day  and  devoted  to  that  purpose  So  when  one  Saturday  morning 
the  sun  rose  in  a  spotless  sky,  with  merely  a  gentle  breeze  creating 
a  rustle  in  the  leaves,  Charles  and  Henry  appeared  at  the  parsonage 
dressed  in  their  sailor  suits  and  summoned  Dolores  to  prepare  for 
the  trip  without  delay.  The  child  required  no  urging  ;  in  ten  min 
utes  she  stood  before  her  friends  ready  to  receive  M  iss  Sarah's  warn 
ings  to  be  cautious  and  the  large  basket  containing  all  the  dainties 
that  were  to  grace  the  voyage. 


76  DOLORES. 

"Do,  child,  be  careful,  now,"  she  enjoined  for  the  thirtieth 
time,  "  and  you,  Charles,  take  good  care  of  her,  my  lad." 

"Never  fear,  Miss  Sarah.  You  know  I  would  not  for  the 
world  expose  Dolores,  so  rest  easy  on  that  score.  But  now  we  must 
depart  or  noon  will  be  upon  us  before  we  know  it.  Good  bye,  Miss 
Sarah." 

So  off  they  went,  taking  with  them  the  best  wishes  of  the  par 
son  and  his  sister.  The  walk  to  the  bay  consumed  only  a  few  min 
utes,  and  was  soon  accomplished  by  these  young  elastic  feet.  Now 
they  reached  the  boat,  and  Dolores  was  helped  in  and  the  basket 
with  the  provisions  deposited  in  a  locker  at  the  stern,  the  cover  of 
which  served  as  a  seat.  Next  Charles  jumped  in,  erecting  the  mast 
and  getting  the  sail  in  order,  while  Henry  loosened  the  chain,  ready 
to  drop  it  and  follow  his  brother  into  the  boat. 

"All  right !"  cries  Charles,  a  spring  of  Henry  and  the  sail  be 
gins  to  fill  and  propel  the  light  vessel  over  the  water.  Charles  sits 
at  the  stern,  with  one  hand  handling  the  rudder  and  with  the  other 
the  line  that  regulates  the  sail.  Henry  is  in  the  bow  watching  for 
his  brother's  words  of  command  and  ready  to  execute  them  on  the 
spot.  At  Charles'  side  sits  Dolores  with  fluttering  heart,  all  excite 
ment  at  the  novelty  of  the  amusement,  but  not  yet  all  delight. 
Charles  laughs  at  her,  when  she  seizes  his  arm  with  a  nervous  grasp 
at  any  sudden  turn  of  the  boat,  but  soon  she  gets  used  to  its  motions 
and  then  no  longer  furnishes  material  for  merriment.  Her  fear 
subsides  ;  but  her  excitement  remaining,  assumes  the  character  of 
pure  delight.  Now  leaning  overboard  and  letting  her  fingers  trail 
through  the  water,  now  clasping  her  hands  in  ecstacy  over  some 
new  point  of  beauty  revealing  itself  to  her  eye  ;  now  laughing  at 
Charles'  quaint  remarks  or  amusing  the  boys  in  return  by  those  of 
her  own  invention,  she  was  the  very  picture  of  happiness  and  as 
sumed  a  radiant  beauty  such  as  Charles  had  never  noticed  in  her 
before. 

"Dolores,"  he  said,  smiling,  "  I  really  think  the  water  is  your 
element.  I  shouldn't  wonder  much  to  see  you  suddenly  change  into 
a  water  fairy  and  return  to  the  element  from  which  you  may  have 
been  taken  merely  by  mistake." 

"  Why,  Charles,  yes,  that  would  be  fun.     To  live  down  there 


DOLORES.  77 

among  the  pretty  fishes,  in  palaces  of  corals  and  seaweeds;  wouldn't 
it  be  splendid  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,  Dol.  I  haven't  much  of  a  taste  for 
brine  as  a  beverage." 

"  Oh  !  water  fairies  don't  drink  salt  water,  Charles.  They  live 
on  goldfish  and  sea  stars,  you  know." 

' '  I  don't  know  whether  I  should  like  them  any  better." 

"Oh,  you  are  hard  to  please,  Charles.  I  know  your  mother 
spoils  you  with  all  the  dainties  she  cooks  and  bakes  for  you.  But 
I  do  say  it  would  be  fun  to  live  down  there  and  surprise  you  when 
sailing  in  your  boat  by  diving  from  tjje  water." 

"  Well,  Dol,  it  might  be  fun  for  you,  but  then  what  should  we 
do  without  you  ?  Miss  Sarah  would  make  a  pretty  fuss  indeed  on 
learning  that  you  had  turned  into  a  sprite." 

"  Why,  yes,  I  see  it  wouldn't  answer  at  all,  Charles.  Miss  Sarah 
might  miss  me,  and  Mr.  Fox  surely  would.  So  I  won't  dive  for  a 
while.  But  Charles,  what  are  you  doing  ?  Aint  we  going  too  far 
from  shore  ? '* 

"  Why,  no,  that  is  the  fun.  I  see  the  wind  is  getting  favorable 
for  a  good  cruise,  and  1  am  bound  to  show  you  the  sailing  qualities 
of  the  Mermaid." 

Dolores  had  implicit  faith  in  her  companion's  skill  and  strength, 
so  she  acquiesced  in  his  decision,  and  instead  of  fretting  abandoned 
herself  to  a  full  enjoyment  of  the  hour.  Receiving  the  wind  from 
the  rear  at  an  obtuse  angle  with  her  course  the  boat  cut  the  waves 
with  the  rapidity  of  the  seabird  and  thereby  created  in  the  bosom 
of  the  girl  the  pleasure  always  engendered  by  rapid  motion.  Her 
curls  fluttering  in  the  wind,  her  eyes  dilated,  her  mouth  drinking 
eagerly  the  bracing  air,  she  reveled  in  the  beauties  of  the  ocean 
with  an  abandonment  which  pleased  and  flattered  Charles.  It  was 
he  that  had  procured  this  recreation  for  Dolores,  and  he  was  grati 
fied  to  see  her  so  delighted.  Since  the  above  remarks  no  words  had 
been  exchanged  between  the  trio  ;  they  seemed  too  happy  to  speak 
much,  thus  verifying  the  truth  that  great  bliss  inclines  to  pensive- 
ness  rather  than  boisterous  mirth.  At  last  Dolores  remarked  : 

"  Charles,  you  promised  the  other  day  to  tell  me  some  beautiful 
fairy  tale  ;  supposing  you  do  it  now.  I  think  it  would  be  doubly 
delightful  on  the  sea." 


78  DOLORES. 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,  Dolores,  but  I  wish  you  knew  German; 
the  tales  I  know  are  German  tales,  and  they  sound  much  prettier 
in  that  language  than  in  any  other." 

11  German  ?  Yes,  you  told  me  your  parents  are  German,  com 
ing  from  a  beautiful  country  beyond  the  sea.  I  wish  I  knew  Ger 
man." 

"  So  do  I,  Dolores  ;  it  would  give  you  access  to  so  many  beau 
tiful  books." 

"Is  it  very  hard  to  learn  ?" 

"  It  is  not  very  easy,  Dol,  but  you  could  learn  it  easily  enough." 

* '  Would  you  teach  me,  Charles  ?" 

"  Of  course  I  would.  Strange  that  I  never  thought  of  this  be 
fore." 

"  Why  no,  Charles,  it  is  not  so  very  strange.  We  haven't 
known  one  another  so  long  yet." 

"  I  know,  Dol,  we  haven't ;  but  still  it  seems  to  me  as  if  I  had 
known  you  all  the  while." 

"  And  so  it  seems  to  me,  Charles.  I  suppose  it  is  because-  we 
are  such  very  good  friends  together.  But  as  to  German,  tell  me 
the  name  of  one  of  your  stories  in  German." 

"  Oh  !  Dol,  there  are  so  many  of  them  that  it  is  hard  to  pick. 
There  is  for  instance  '  Dornroeschen.' " 

"  'Doruroeschen ?'"  Dolores  said  with  an  accent  as  correct  as  if 
she  had  spoken  German  all  her  life,  "  why  that  is  not  hard  to  un. 
derstand,  it  sounds  familiar  to  me,  say  doesn't  it  mean  as  much  as 
'  BriarroseT" 

"  Of  course  it  does,"  Charles  said  with  a  look  of  surprise  ;  "Dol, 
you  are  a  strange  girl,  I  never  saw  one  like  you  before." 

"Why  am  I  strange,  Charles?" 

"Because  you  know  everything  beforehand.  Mr.  Goodman 
says  you  do  and  you  will  soon  excel  me,  if  I  don't  look  out,  he 
says." 

' '  Pshaw  !  Charlie,  you  are  making  fun  of  me." 

"  Not  the  least,  Dolores.  You  are  a  strange  girl  and  I  shouldn't 
at  all  wonder  to  see  you  turn  into  a  mermaid  in  good  earnest." 

"  I  like  that  word  'Dornroeschen,'  said  Dolores  abruptly,  as  if 
she  wanted  to  change  the  conversation;  "but  I  should  like  to  know 
some  more,  try  me  on  another  name." 


DOLORES.  79 

"  'Schneeivitchen'  then." 

"Oh,  you  take  easy  ones.  Everybody  might  know  that  that 
means  snowwhite." 

"  No,  indeed,  everybody  wouldn't,  for  everybody  isn't  Dolores. 
But  here  is  another. 
"  Aschenpuddel" 

11  Why  that  is  some  one  who  puddles  in  the  ashes.  If  German 
is  no  harder  than  that  I'll  soon  know  it." 

"I  shouldn't  wonder  if  you  knew  it  now,"  the  boy  replied  . 
' '  Listen  and  see  whether  you  don't." 

And  then  he  began  the  pretty  story  of  Briarrose  in  his  mother's 
tongue  which  I  shall  not  repeat  here.  On  the  one  hand  it  is  fa 
miliar  to  almost  every  body;  on  the  other  I  am  afraid  but  few  of 
my  readers  would  understand  it  ;  for  with  all  due  respect  to  them 
in  regard  to  the  German  language,  I  think  with  Charlie  that  they 
would  not  all  of  them  be  like  Doloros. 

AVhile  Charlie  spoke,  and  at  the  same  time  keenly  eyed  her, 
Dolores  sat  like  one  dreaming.  It  was  evident  from  the  expression 
of  her  face,  which  varied  with  the  modulations  of  the  story,  that 
the  words  beat  not  meaningless  against  her  ear  but  reached  the 
seat  of  understanding,  but  it  was  clear  at  the  same  time  that  the 
impression  was  by  no  means  distinct  and  well  defined.  The  girl 
listened  more  with  her  instinct,  as  it  were,  than  with  her  reason, 
or  rather  like  one  that  listens  to  something  far  away  and,  in  spite 
of  strenuous  efforts,  only  succeeds  in  getting  a  faint  idea  of  the 
meaning.  Nevertheless,  when  Dolores  related  to  Charles  the  story 
as  she  had  understood  it,  he  was  so  astonished  that  he  was  scarcely 
able  to  tell  her  so. 

"  Dolores,  you  are  making  fun  of  me  now  ?"  he  said  positively. 
"You  do  understand  German." 

"If  I  do,  I  didn't  know  it." 

<  <  Were  you  ever  in  Germany  ?" 

' '  I  was  not,  Charlie." 

"But you  were  with  Germans  in  this  country ?" 

".I  may  have  been,  Charlie,  but  never  long,  at  least  I  do  not 
recollect  of  ever  hearing  words  like  those  you  spoke  before." 

"  Your  father  came  from  Italy  ?" 

"Yes,  sir." 


80  DOLORES. 

u  And  your  mother  ?" 

' '  Came  from  there  too,  for  all  I  know." 

"  Wonderful,  wonderful  !"  he  muttered  and  for  a  while  he  be 
came  very  silent,  evidently  turning  this  enigma  over  and  over  in 
his  mind  without  finding  a  solution.  From  this  silence  his  brother's 
voice  roused  him.. 

"Charles,"  he  said,  "  if  you  want  to  go  to  the  cemetery  to-day, 
it  is  time  to  shift.  It  is  past  twelve  and  we  have  a  long  ways  to  go 
^there." 

Charles  looked  at  the  sun  and  nodded. 

"You  are  right,  Henry,"  he  replied.  "  I  had  got  into  a  brown 
study." 

The  sail  was  shifted  and  the  boat  obeying  the  new  impulse,  no 
longer  stood  into  the  sea,  but  in  a  diagonal  line  approached  the 
shore  in  a  northwestern  direction.  They  might  there  be  about  two 
miles  frome  the  coast  and  from  the  course  of  the  boat  Dolores 
judged  that  they  would  strike  land  about  the  same  distance  north 
of  the  harbor  from  which  they  had  started.  The  name  cemetery 
had  struck  the  girl  and  after  pondering  upon  its  possible  meaning 
in  this  connection,  she  at  last  inquired  : 

"  Henry  spoke  about  a  cemetery.  I  wasn't  aware  that  there  is 
a  place  of  that  kind  at  the  coast  about  here." 

"  There  isn't  either,  Dol.     Only  the  people  call  it  so  from  the 
many  rocks  which  stand  in  the  water  tombstone  fashion." 

"  O,  yes,  I  recollect  now.  Miss  Sarah  spoke  about  such  a  place 
the  other  day,  saying  it  was  haunted." 

"  You  know  what  that  means,  Dol  ?" 

"Of  course,  I  do,  though  I  don't  believe  in  it.  It  means  that 
it  is  visited  by  ghosts." 

"  Ain't  you  afraid  of  ghosts,  Dol  ?" 

' '  Not  a  bit,  Charlie,  for  there  ain't  any." 

"Well,  I  don't  know,  some  say  there  ain't,  but  others  swear 
there  are  and  that  they  have  seen  them.  I  hope  you  are  not  afraid 
to  go  to  such  a  place  ?" 

"No,  Charlie,  I  am  not,"  the  girl  said  so  quietly  that  the  boy 
had  no  reason  to  doubt  her  word,  and  therefore  continued  to  hold 
his  boat  in  a  position  that  would  effect  his  purpose. 
•    "I  have  my  special  reason,  Dol,  to  go  to  the  cemetery,"  he 


DOLORES.  81 

said.  "I  have  been  told  that  there  is  an  eagle's  nest  somewhere  up 
there  and  I  shall  try  to  get  the  young  ones." 

"  You  haven't  been  there  then  lately,  Charlie  ?" 

"No,  Dol,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  have  never  been  there  yet." 

"  Why,  that  is  funny  ;  you  ain't  afraid?" 

"  Of  course  I  am  not,  but  other  people  are,  you  know." 

He  winked  at  his  brother. 

"  You  mean  Henry  is  ?     But  that  need  not  keep  you  away." 

I  know,  but  mother  is  afraid  and  she  always  made  me  promise 
not  to  go." 

"And  you  would  disobey  her  today,  Charles?"  the  girl  said 
with  a  touch  of  reproach. 

"No,  not  exactly,  Dol.  The  truth  is  she  didn't  make  me 
promise  to-day." 

"  Perhaps  she  forgot." 

"May  be  she  did,  Dol,"  he  said  with  a  laugh,  "but  that  is  her 
lookout  and  not  mine,  you  know.  I  am  bound  to  benefit  by  the 
chance  and  try  for  the  eagles.  But  Henry,  what  is  the  matter? 
What  are  you  doing  ?" 

"  Getting,my  fishing  tackle  ready.  Charlie.  I  promised  mother 
some  fish  and  want  you  to  put  me  off  on  the  rocky  island.  You 
know  they  bite  well  there,  and  when  you  come  back,  I  expect  to 
have  more  than  mother  wants." 

"  What  a  thoughtful  and  dutiful  son  !  Charles  exclaimed  with 
a  touch  of  sarcasm  and  a  wink  at  Dolores.  "  Henry  isn't  a  bit 
afraid,  not  he.  But  then  mother  wants  fish,  you  know,  and  so  he 
can't  visit  the  cemetery." 

Henry  colored  slightly,  and  the  glance  he  cast  at  his  brother 
was  anything  but  friendly.  But  when  Dolores  laughed  he  joined 
in  the  chorus,  probably  thinking  thatt  i  was  the  best  thing  he 
could  do.  Nothing  more  was  said  about  his  motives,  but  Charles 
resumed  : 

' '  Dol,  the  rocky  island  is  well  worth  seeing,  and  as  it  is  noon 
and  time  to  think  of  dinner,  we  may  as  well  cast  anchor  there  and 
take  our  meal  on  terra  firma." 

This  proposition  was  agreed  to  and  the  course  continued.  By 
this  time  the  characteristic  features  of  the  coast  began  to  show 
themselves.  While  the  main  shore  rose  in  high  crags  of  more  than 


82  DOLORES. 

one  hundred  feet  almost  perpendicularly,  masses  of  scattered  rocks 
from  five  to  ten  feet  high  at  the  time  of  the  tide  rose  from  the 
water,  resembling  to  a  certain  degre  the  tombstones  of  a  graveyard 
especially  when  seen  from  the  distance,  and  thus  justifying  the 
popular  appellation  of  the  cemetery,  which,  as  above  mentioned, 
had  been  bestowed  upon  it  by  the  country  people.  Being  of  lime 
stone,  the  rocks  by  their  whitish  color  strengthened  the  impression. 
Near  the  coast  they  gradually  grew  higher,  thereby  creating  the 
idea  that  the  graveyard  was  situated  on  a  hillside,  exposing  to  gaze 
almost  every  monument.  The  flat  rock  which  Harry  had  honored 
with  the  name  of  island  was  the  only  exception  from  the  general 
rule,  in  as  far  as  it  had  not  the  shape  of  a  thin  pillar,  but  of  a 
table  rock  some  three  feet  above  water  at  ordinary  tide  and  about 
twenty  feet  square.  It  was  a  short  distance  from  the  other  rocks, 
appearing  to  stand  to  them  in  the  same  relation  of  forerunner  which 
they  themselves  sustained  to  the  main  shore  The  water  around 
this  island  was  deep  and  free  from  reefs  and,  as  an  iron  ring  had 
been  rivited  in  the  rock,  our  travellers  found  no  difficulty  in 
fastening  their  boat  to  the  island. 

"In  the  name  of  my  sovereign  queen,  Dolores  *di  Gatana,  I 
take  possession  of  this  island,"  Charles  said  with  a  laugh,  springing 
on  the  rock  and  swinging  his  straw  hat.  Then  turning  to  the  boat 
he  bowed  with  mock  reverence  and  said  : 

"  Does  it  please  your  majesty  to  dine  on  her  newly  gained  soil 
— roc/:  I  meant  to  say — or  does  she  prefer  the  shadow  of  the  sail  ?" 

"The  sail  will  be  more  acceptable  for  the  repast,"  Dolores  said 
with  graceful  condescension,  happily  imitating  the  style  of  her 
friend  ;  "but  I  must  confess  that  I  am  well  inclined  to  pay  a  visit 
to  this  land  of  mine,  to  acquaint  myself  with  its  manners  and  cus 
toms  and  to  let  the  sun  of  my  royal  grace  shine  upon  its  inhabit 
ants.  Stewart,  you  will  in  my  absence  make  due  preparations  for 
a  pleasant  meal,  for  it  pleases  my  royal  stomach  to  share  the  weak 
ness  of  common  mortals,  so  vulgarly  called  hunger.  And  now, 
Sir  Chamberlain,  if  you  will  reach  me  your  loyal  right  I  shall  en 
deavor  to  ascend  my  rocky  realm." 

Charles  in  silence  did  her  bidding.  He  had  made  up  his  mind 
hence  not  to  wonder  at  anything  he  might  see  in  this  little  creature  ; 
for  the  grace  and  dignity  with  which  she  spoke  was  truly  marvel- 


DOLORES.  83 

ous  and  would  have  done  credit  to  any  real  princess.  Walking 
around  on  the  rock  the  pair  enjoyed  the  beauty  of  the  scenery, 
especially  the  view  on  the  rocks  which  from  that  spot  was  really 
grand.  The  white  pillars  looming  from  the  deep  with  their  bases 
washed  by  the  rippling  waves,  offering  a  great  variety  in  their  fan 
tastic  forms,  rising  gradually  to  the  height  of  the  crags  composing 
the  shore  ;  here  and  there  crowding  closely  together,  while  at  other 
places  they  allowed  room  for  little  basins,  whose  watery  bottom, 
however,  remained  invisible.  These  pillars,  I  say,  were  well  worth 
examining,  and  Charles  and  Dolores  hastened  to  their  meal  in  or 
der  to  be  able  to  commence  their  exploring  expedition  as  soon  as 
possible. 

Henry  had  already  brought  forth  the  basket  with  the  eatables 
of  Miss  Sarah's  concoction,  and  their  savory  nature  in  connection 
with  the  good  appetite  of  the  adventurers  made  them  disappear  fast. 

When  they  had  finished,  Henry  took  his  tackle,  jumped  on  the 
rock  and  loosening  the  rope  allowed  the  boat  to  yield  to  the  pres 
sure  of  the  tide  which  was  near  its  height  and  gently  carried  the 
boat  towards  the  rocks.  The  sail  had  been  furled  and  the  mast 
taken  down,  because  they  were  of  no  benefit  amongst  the  crags, 
and  a  pair  of  oars  in  the  hands  of  Charles  were  used  to  propel  the 
boat  instead.  The  young  man  handled  them  with  exemplary  skill ; 
but  before  entering  the  labyrinth  he  stopped  a  moment. 

"  Henry,"  he  said,  "hadn't  you  better  come  along?  We  may 
be  hours  in  returning,  and  in  case  of  ennui  you'd  have  no  means 
of  reaching  the  shore  without  us." 

"  Never  mind,  Charles;  you  know  I  am  fond  ef  fishing  and 
shall  think  the  hours  too  short,  if  anything." 

"But,  Henry,  we  might  be  prevented  from  returning  at  all  by 
getting  entangled  in  one  of  these  many  channels." 

"  That  wouldn't  better  my  case  much,  Charlie,"  Henry  said 
laughing,  "on  the  contrary,  under  such  circumstances  I  could  bene 
fit  you  instead  of  being  benefitted.  Mother  knows  that  I  meant  to 
fish  here  ;  if  we  are  not  back  at  dusk,  she'll  cause  a  boat  to  come  in 
search  of  us." 

"Well,  as  you  please.  May  be  you  are  right.  Good-bye, 
Henry,  and  much  pleasure  to  you." 

Henry's  "likewise"  was  still  echoing  among  the  rocks  when  the 


M  DOLORES 

boat  had  already  turned  the  corner  and  gone  out  of  >ight.  Thev 
s\\am  in  :i  channel  or  lather  a  innltitiulo  of  channels  which  were 
so  like  one  another  that  stranger-  fouiul  great  ditlieulty  in  distin- 
gui-hing  the  right  one.  Charles  noticed  this  from  the  first  aiul 
with  a  readiness  and  circumspection  which  wouKl  have  done  credit 
to  a  navigator  of  experience,  lie  improsed  certain  features  of  the 
rocks  around  him  on  his  mind.  Still  this  was  all  he  could  do,  ami 
so  he  begged  Polore.-  to  keep  a  lookout  for  game,  laying  his  gun 
in  reach  of  his  hand,  in  case  an  eagle  or  other  bird  should  pre-eut 
itself.  Dolores  would  have  liked  to  Uno\\  more  about  the  -torv  of 
this  siranire  phuv,  since  Charles  had  intimated  that  he  was  acquaint 
ed  \\iih  it  :  but  siviujr  that  he  was  too  bu-y  to  narrate  it  just  then, 
sl»e  curbed  her  cnrio-ity  and,  waiti;\«r  i\>r  a  favorable  opportunity, 
eagerly  sent  her  eyes  around  in  search  of  pi  me  Nothing.  ho\v- 
.  would  pre-cut  it>elf  and  the  >olemu  silence  of  the  plaee.  rath 
er  deepeueil  than  broken  by  the  rippling  of  the  water  or  the  clash 
ing  of  the  oars,  fell  like  a  damper  upon  the  piy  spirit  of  the  girl. 
At  one  of  those  ba-ins  1  have  mentioned  Tharle-  stopped  his  boat 
and  -aid  : 

6  '.  I  VI  ;  here  let  n-  halt  a  while  and  look  around  us.  This 
basin  mu>t  >er\c  us  as  a  landmark  to  shape  our  course  :  if  we  for 
get  our  entrance  m\  \\hole  trouble  will  be  in  vain.  IKiyousee 
these  t\\o  nu*ks  together  looking  like  a  pair^of  weather  beaten  >alt> 
in  their  overalls?  \'erv  well  :  our  channel  lies  between  them. 
V'\\  for  our  next  Mop-.  It  is  hard  to  >ay  in  w  hich  direction  the 
shore  lie>.  Thoe  reck-  are  getting  so  high  that  they  exclude  the 
sight  of  everything,  even  that  of  the  sun." 

"  Hut  not  their  shallow."  IVlorc-  -uu'U'^teil. 

rharles  started. 

"  Pol.  yvui  are  a  jewel."  he  said.  M  the  -martest  little  thing  that 
6V6T  WOT6  skirta  You  think  t>f  things  that  escaped  this  bhvk- 
heail  of  mine.  To  the  deuce  with  all  my  measure-  of  precaution. 
If  on  returning  we  can't  see  the  sun.  the  shadow  will  indicate  our 
course." 

Hut  the  sky  may  cloud  up. 

"Oh  well,  the  world  may  perish,  for  that  matter;  one  mustn't 
al\\a\  <  expect  the  worst." 


DOLORKS.  85 

So  they  went  on,  directing  their  course  by  keeping  the  sunlit 
side  of  the  rocks  to  their  right. 

''Can't  you  tell  me  now  what  the  people  say  about  this  place, 
Charlie?"  Dolores  inquired. 

"  Why  yes,  1  may  as  well  ;  it  isn't  much  though  and  nonsense 
at  (test.  Thi'  story  goes  that  ninny  years  ago  a  pirate  frequented 
this  place,  hiding  his  vessel  and  his  treasures  in  some  cave  in  the 
crags.  ( )ne  dav,  while  on  sea,  he  fell  in  with  a  man-of-war  that 
had  been  in  search  of  him.  It  was  too  late  to  run  away,  and  more 
over  the  pirate  was  not  much  inclined  to  run.  So  in  spite  of  heavy 
odds  against  hinf  he  accepted  light  and  skillfully  baffled  all  the  ef 
forts  of  his  foes  to  take  him.  At  last,  however,  his  masts  were  shot 
a\\a\  ;  the  ship  became  unmanagable  and  the  crew  of  the  man-of- 
war  succeeded  in  boarding  his  vessel.  Then  a  dreadful  hand-to- 
hand  tight  ensued  in  which  no  quarter  was  given  on  either  side. 
The  pirates  fought  with  dcsparation,  their  captain  at  their  head  ; 
they  never  yielded  ;  until,  receiving  the  mortal  wound,  they  would 
fall  on  the  deck  never  to  arise.  At  last  the  captain  alone  was  left. 
Seeing  his  comrades  dead,  he  beneiitted  by  the  dusk  of  evening 
which  in  the  meantime  had  crept  upon  the  vessels,  and  jumping 
into  the  sea,  succeeded  in  reaching  a  little  boat  that  had  been  trail 
ing  behind  the  vessel  at  the  beginning  of  the  fight.  Cutting  the 
rope,  he  managed  to  get  away  from  the  ships  and  by  means  of  a 
pair  of  oars  the  bree/e  and  the  tide,  soon  reached  the  neighboring 
shore  and  his  hiding  place.  But  he  was  go  much  exhausted  that 
he  fell  upon  the  ground  in  a  tit  of  fainting,  never  to  awaken  again. 
The  wounds  he  had  received  in  the  fight,  though  not  mortal  in 
themselves,  had  become  fatal  in  consequence  of  the  loss  of  blood. 
Slowly  but  surely  the  Hood  of  life  was  ooxing  out,  until  at  last  the 
vital  spark  became  extinct  and  the  wicked  but  brave  buccaneer 
lay  a  corpse  upon  the  beach  that  hid  his  treasures." 

"That  story  makes  me  shudder,  Charlie,"  Dolores  said  after  a 
pause,  "but  yet  I  like  it.  Does  the  story  not  tell  the  pirate's  name?" 

"  It  does,"  he  replied  with  a  light  hesitancy,  "it  calls  him  Fox." 

"  Fox  ?  why,  it  is  funny  he  should  be  called  like  my  father." 

"It  is,  Dol,  and  what  is  queerer  yet,  malignant  tongues  whisper 
of  a  relationship  between  the  pirate  and  the  family  of  the  man 
sion.  But  this  is  all  nonsense  of  course.  I  don't  believe  the  part 


86  DOLORES. 

relating  to  the  man's  existence,  much  less  that  one  connecting  him 
with  our  Mr.  Fox." 

" Nor  I,  Charlie,"  she  said  with  indignation.  "To  think  of  it ! 
My  good  foster-father  the  relation  of  a  bloodthirsty  pirate !" 

' '  It  isn't  likely,  Dol ;  tho'  stranger  things  have  happened  for 
that  matter.  But  here  is  another  basin  and — let  me  see —  yes, 
surely  that  is  the  shore.  Do  you  see  how  the  crags  are  hanging 
together  on  top  ?" 

"Yes,  Charlie  ;  but  at  the  bottom  are  large  fissures.  May  be 
we  can  pass  through." 

"  I'll  soon  find  out,  Dol.  Look  out,  that  you  'don't  strike  your 
head  against  some  projecting  edge.  But  what  is  this  ?  Oh,  Dol, 
how  beautiful !" 

This  exclamation  was  drawn  from  him  by  the  strange  beauty  of 
the  place  which  they  had  reached  on  passing  through  the  fissure. 
The  sky  was  no  longer  over  head  ;  but  a  dome-like  vault  of  lime 
stone  rock  loomed  more  than  fifty  feet  above  instead.  Narrow  fis 
sures  on  the  sides  and  the  top  admitted  the  rays  of  the  sun  which, 
flitting  like  as  many  streaks  of  gold  through  the  vault,  lit  up  the 
space  with  a  colored  light  of  a  subdued  brightness.  The  bottom 
consisted  partly  of  water,  partly  of  snow-white  sand  on  which  in 
one  corner  several  bones  and  a  scull  became  visible.  On  the  right 
the  water  entered  into  another  fissure  naturally  suggesting  the  idea 
that  the  cave  continued  on  that  side.  The  place  was  extremely 
beautiful,  though  showing  a  beauty  in  which  the  august  and  even 
awful  predominated. 

When  Charles  had  uttered  the  above  exclamation,  the  boat 
grated  on  the  sand  and  with  the  impulse  of  the  last  stroke  glided 
far  enough  up  to  remain  fastened.  Charles  sprang  on  shore  and 
reaching  his  hand  to  Dolores,  assisted  her  in  also  gaining  the 
ground.  They  looked  around  like  bewildered,  and  when  they  no 
ticed  the  bones  the  girl  drew  nearer  to  her  companion. 

"The  pirate's  cave !"  she  cried  half  loud. 

"  Yes,  and  his  skeleton,"  he  replied.  "  I  begin  to  believe  that 
there  is  something  in  the  story  after  all.  But  isn't  that  lovely  ? 
I  could  almost  fancy  a  freebooter's  life  with  such  an  abode  to  dwell 
in." 


DOLORES.  87 

"And  such  a  death  to  die,"  Dolores  'said  ;  "no,  Charlie,  you 
would  do  no  such  thing." 

"  May  be,  I  wouldn't,  Dol,"  he  said  laughing,  "but  if  the  story 
Is  true  so  far,  may  be  that  part  about  the  fellow's  treasures  is  also 
correct.  We  must  bring  a  psck  and  shovel  to  dig  for  them." 

The  girl  shuddered. 

"I  wouldn't  want  money  to  which  the  blood  of  poor  murdered 
people  is  sticking,"  she  said.  "  Come,  Charlie,  let  us  leave  this 
place  ;  it  makes  a  person  feel  so  wild  and  wicked." 

"Little  goosy  !"  he  said  with  a  laugh,  "  you  wild  and  wicked? 
I  defy  any  place  to  make  you  wicked." 

"  Well,  I  .don't  care,  I  am  afraid  and  wish  to  leave." 

"If  that  is  so,  I  suppose  I'll  have  to  humor  you.  But  before 
we  go  let  me  examine  that  fissure  just  for  a  moment.  You  see 
there  is  a  strip  of  dry  sand  along  the  water  which  will  enable  us  to 
pass  with  dry  feet." 

She  yielded  with  evident  reluctance  ;  but  his  ardent  desire  of 
farther  discoveries  made  him  for  once  disregard  her  wishes.  Taking 
his  shot-gun  on  his  shoulder  and  extending  his  hand  to  his  com 
panion,  he  walked  with  her  towards  the  fissure  mentioned,  and  fol 
lowing  the  strip  of  dry  sand  soon  reached  another  cave  of  smaller 
dimensions  but  similar  character  which,  however,  was  much  more 
poorly  lit  up.  In  fact,  so  somber  was  the  vault  that  Charles  with 
his  feet  struck  against  an  object  which  his  eyes  had  failed  to  dis 
cover. 

"That  sounds  like  wood,  Dol,"  he  said,  relinquishing  her  hand 
for  a  moment  in  order  to  ascertain  the  nature  of  his  discovery. ' 

"  Indeed,  it  is  a  box  and  a  heavy  one  too,"  he  continued  in  an 
excited  manner.  "Dol,  this  is  an  adventure.  If  this  box  should 
contain  gold  !" 

"  Give  me  your  hand,  Charlie,  and  let  us  go,"  Dolores  said  with 
a  tone  of  urging  supplication.  ' '  You  know  I  am  no  coward  ;  but 
here  my  heart  is  failing  me.  I  feel  as  if  some  evil  thing  will  hap 
pen  us." 

"Very  well,  Dol/'  he  answered  soothingly,  "Til  not  press  the 
matter  now.  The  discovery  may  suffice  for  to-day  and  its  develop 
ment  be  left  to  another  time.  Come,  let  us  return." 

Suiting  the  action  to  his  words  he  entered  the  passage  with 


88  DOLORES. 

Dolores,  when  all  at  once  the  sounds  of  oars  striking  the  water, 
mixed  with  guarded  voices  of  men  fell  upon  their  ears.  They 
stopped  and  Charles  felt  the  hand  of  Dolores  tightening  around 
his  own. 

"I  knew  it,"  she  said  with  a  whisper,  "I  knew  that  something 
would  befall  us.  If  you  had  only  minded  my  warning." 

"  Your  warning  would  have  been  too  late,  child.  But  I  don't 
believe  in  danger  yet.  "We  shall  most  likely  meet  another  com 
pany  of  visitors ;  though  I  didn't  think  that  the  cemetery  was  so 
much  frequented.  But  hush,  the're  coming." 

Remaining  in  the  fissure  they  now  heard  the  noise  getting  more 
distinct  every  moment,  and  at  last  saw  a  large  boat  with  some  eight 
or  ten  men  gliding  into  the  first  vault.  There  were  several  boxes 
in  the  boat ;  but  Charles  had  not  much  time  to  examine  them,  for 
no  sooner  had  the  new  comers  seen  the  boat  on  the  sand,  when  all 
of  them  uttered  loud  exclamations  of  surprise  mixed  with  copious 
curses. 

"H — 1  and  damnation  !"  cried  one  of  them  who  seemed  to  be 
their  leader,  at  the  same  time  springing  on  the  sandy  bottom, 
"what  does  this  signify  ?  An  intruder  in  our  cave?  "Where  is  he 
that  I  may  send  him  to  the  fishes  of  the  sea,  for  surely  he'll  not 
leave  this  place  alive." 

His  companions  followed  him,  making  boisterous  demonstra 
tions  of  their  indignation  and  swearing  numerous  oaths,  reiterating 
the  declaration  of  their  leader  to  at  once  dispatch  the  intruder  or 
intruders. 

This  was  a  trying  moment  for  our  young  friends  and  if  they 
had  yielded  to  their  fear  and  thrown  themselves  with  cries  and 
lamentations  at  the  feet  of  the  men  who  so.  fearfully  threatened 
their  lives,  we  would  have  no  reason  to  be  at  all  surprised.  Still 
they  did  not  and  those  expecting  great  things  from  Charles  Fuchs' 
uncommon  qualities  would  not  have  been  disappointed  if  they  could 
have  witnessed  his  conduct. 

"  Back  into  the  cave,"  he  whispered  to  the  girl,  "  you  are  not 
safe  hsre  ;  I'll  guard  the  entrance." 

Urging  her  back  with  his  hand,  he  expected  to  have  her  follow 
his  injunctions,  although  he  had  no  time  to  convince  himself,  for 
the  strangers  finding  the  first  cave  empty  were  already  hastening 


DOLORES.  89 

towards  the  second.  Charles  had  not  a  moment  to  lose.  Causing 
the  muzzle  of  his  gun  to  become  visible  to  the  eyes  of  the  approach 
ing  party,  he  cried  with  a  loud  voice  : 

"Back!" 

The  sound  breaking  against  the  rocky  walls  filled  the  grotto 
with  an  uproar  truly  startling.  It  accomplished  its  object,  however, 
for  the  men  made  a  dead  stop,  probably  more  affected  by  surprise 
than  fear. 

"Who  ventures  to  impede  our  progress  ?"  the  leader  inquired 
while  the  others  preserved  an  expectant  silence. 

"  One  who  has  the  power  to  enforce  his  dictates.  One  more 
step  and  I  shall  order  my  companions  to  fire." 

"  But  who  are  you,  and  what  are  you  doing  in  there  ?" 

"  As  to  the  first  question,  I  must  refuse  to  gratify  your  curiosi 
ty.  As  to  the  second  you  may  know  we  came  by  ch --  ^e." 

"  Then  you  know  nothing  of  the  cave  ?" 

"  Nothing  but  the  idle  rumor  in  the  mouth  of  the  people." 

"  But  we  cannot  allow  you  to  return.  If  you  do  not  surrender 
all  at  once  we  shall  attack  you  and  shoot  you  down  like  dogs." 

"  It  takes  two  to  make  a  bargain.  We  shall  defend  our  lives 
as  well  as  we  can." 

The  intrepid  tone  in  which  this  was  said  did  not  fail  to  impress 
the  men.  The  passage  was  narrow  and  only  to  be  affected  in 
single  file.  They  did  not  know  how  large  the  party  in  the  second 
cave  might  be,  and,  taking  all  things  into  consideration,  the  attack 
which  the  leader  had  threatened  was  a  pretty  risky  affair.  Putting 
their  heads  together  the  men  seemed  to  deliberate  on  the  best 
course  to  pursue  ;  but  before  they  had  come  to  a  conclusion,  the 
voice  from  the  passage  attracted  their  attention. 

"  We  don't  know7  who  you  are,"  it  said,  "nor  do  we  care  to  learn 
it.  \\Te  are  not  interested  in  this  cave  and  were  brought  here  by 
the  merest  chance.  Now  under  these  circumstances,  I  should  think 
we  could  come  to  an  understanding,  which  would  on  the  one  hand 
secure  your  secret  and  on  the  other  our  retreat." 

"  How  would  you  secure  our  secret,"  the  leader  of  the  strangers 
replied. 

"  By  swearing  to  respect  it." 

' '  What  security  would  you  give  us  for  keeping  your  oath  ?" 


90  DOLORES. 

1 1  That  proposal  could  hardly  satisfy  us." 

' '  Well  to  get  away  from  here  we  would  have  to  confide  in  your 
oath,  why  shouldn't  you  trust  us  as  much  ?" 

"  That  is  you  mean  that  we  should  swear  to  let  you  go  in  case 
you  could  satisfy  us  as  to  your  discretion." 

"  Exactly.  Under  no  other  circumstances  could  we  consent  to 
surrender  ourselves  to  your  mercy." 

"  Well,  I  think  we  must  decline  that  offer.  It  will  be  much 
easier  to  starve  you  out  and  thas  compel  your  surrender  without 
condition." 

"  You  forget  some  circumstances  calculated  to  interfere  with 
that  arrangement." 

"  And  which  ones,  pray  ?" 

' '  First,  you  leave  out  of  your  calculation  the  fact  that  while  we 
are  protected  from  your  attacks,  a  guard  of  yours  would  be  subject 
to  our  bullf 

"Ah,  indeed  !     And  the  other  circumstance?" 

"  Pome  of  our  party  are  .on  the  ocean  fishing.  They  know  that 
we  intended  to  visit  the  cemetery,  and  if  we  don't  return  by  sunset, 
they  will  surely  come  out  here  with  a  force  to  trace  us." 

The  other  suffered  an  imprecation  to  slip  through  his  lips. 

"  You  see  that  to  blocade  us,  instead  of  securing  your  secret, 
would  only  endanger  it  the  more,"  the  voice  from  the  passage  pro 
ceeded. 

"Curse  you  and  the  whole  of  them,"  the  speaker  said  savagely 
"  What  business  had  you  to  put  your  saucy  face  into  a  pie  that 
don't  concern  you  ?" 

"  We  had  no  idea  of  meeting  you  or  anybody  here." 

Again  the  men  put  their  heads  together  for  a  consultation. 
After  a  few  minutes  they  seemed  to  have  come  to  resolution,  for 
the  leader  turning  towards  the  fissure  said  : 

"My  friends  have  authorized  me  to  accept  your  proposition. 
So  you  may  come  out  and  give  your  pledge." 

"  Not  unless  you  swear  to  let  us  go  unobstructed."  Raise  your 
hands  and  speak  as  I  speak." 

The  men  did  his  bidding  and  faithfully  repeated  the  oath  by 
which  they  bound  themselves  not  to  do  any  injury  to  such  party 
or  parties  occupying  at  that  moment  the  inner  cave,  or  to  obstruct 


DOLORES.  91 

their  departure.  This  being  done  Charles  stepped  boldly  into  their 
presence  leading  by  the  hand  his  trembling  companion.  The  men 
looked  blank.  Was  this  the  formidable  party  that  threatened  their 
destruction  in  case  of  attack  ?  They  had  been  sold  by  a  boy,  but 
while  they  felt  mortified  at  this  humiliation,  they  could  not  help 
admiring  the  fortitude  and  cunning  with  which  one  so  young  had 
averted  a  fearful  destiny. 

"  Is  that  your  whole  party  ?"  the  leader  inquii  ed  in  a  tone  hold 
ing  the  middle  between  a  scowl  and  a  laugh. 

"  The  whole  party  in  the  cave,  yes,  sir." 

"  And  you  are  not  afraid  that  we  will  punish  you  for  your  de 
ception  ?" 

"  You  forget  your  oath,  sir.  Besides  I  do  not  recollect  of  hav 
ing  deceived  you." 

"You  spoke  of  an  outside  party." 

"  I  spoke  the  truth.  If  we  are  here  detained  there  will  be 
many  persons  out  this  very  evening  to  search  for  us,  and  it  would 
certainly  be  strange  if  they  should  miss  the  cave." 

"You  may  be  right,  sir  ;  but  even  if  we  could  trust  you  on 
your  oath,  this  little  girl  will  surely  tell  on  us." 

"]So,  I  will  not,  sir,"  Dolores  answered,  conquering  her  fear 
and  stepping  forward.  "  You  can  trust  me  as  safely  as  Charlie. 
Indeed  I  am  no  tattle  tale." 

"  I'll  answer  for  Dolores,"  Charles  now  remarked.  "She  is  no 
common  child  and  what  she  says  she  will  faithfully  adhere  to." 

"  She  looks  like  it,"  the  man  resumed.  "  At  any  rate  we  have 
to  run  the  risk.  What  is  her  name,  sir  ?" 

"  Dolores  di  Gatana." 

"That  is  an  outlandish  name.     Where  does  she  reside  " 

' '  At  the  mansion  in  the  village  with  Mr.  Fox." 

The  man  cast  a  significant  look  at  his  comrades. 

"  And  your  name  ?"  he  inquired. 

"  Charles  Fuchs,  of  the  same  place." 

"Very  well,  Charles  Fuchs,  I  shall  note  these  names  and  if  ever 
we  learn  that  you  have  violated  your  pledge  you  will  learn  at  your 
cost  that  we  cannot  be  safely  trifled  with.  And  now  you  both 
solemnly  swear  that  for  two  years  you  will  neither  return  to  this 
place  nor  tell  any  human  soul  about  its  existence." 


92  DOLORES. 

"  We  do,"  the  pair  responded. 

"  Well,  in  that  case  you  may  go.  I  trust  that  a  lad  who  has 
shown  such  self  control  and  sagacity  beyond  his  years  will  show 
himself  as  trustworthy  as  he  was  prudent." 

"You  may  rely  upon  it,"  Charles  replied  and  then  helping 
Dolores  into  the  boat  and  taking  a  seat  in  it  himself,  propelled  the 
vessel  from  a  place  which  had  very  nearly  become  fatal  to  them. 
They  remained  silent  for  a  few  minutes,  but  Charles  had  too 
bouyant  a  spirit  to  remain  dejected  long,  so  he  roused  himself  say 
ing: 

"  Well  Dol,  that  was  a  real  adventure  wasn't  it?" 

"I  don't  like  adventures,  Charlie,"  Dolores  said  with  a  shake 
of  her  head,  her  natural  cheerfulness  still  battling  with  the  depres 
sion  her  nerves  had  experienced  in  consequence  of  the  late  exciting 
ordeal.  "  They  are  much  nicer  to  read  about  than  to  go  through. 
Please  do  row  fast  so  as  to  get  away  from  those  savage  men.  They 
must  be  pirates  surely." 

"  Hardly,  Dol,  or  we  should  have  heard  of  depredations  on  the 
coast." 

"  Why  then  should  they  hide  in  caves  and  fear  to  be  dis 
covered  ?" 

"They  may  have  many  reasons,  for  what  I  know.  They  may 
be  smugglers  for  instance." 

"  Is  smuggling  so  dangerous  ?" 

"  It  is  punished  with  fines  and  imprisonment.  But,  Dol,  what 
is  this  ?  We  have  lost  our  way  ;  this  is  not  the  channel  in  which 
we  came,  it  is  much  wider." 

"Bo  it  is,  Charlie,  and  there  is  the  cave  again.  Oh  !  quick  ! 
let  us  get  away  from  the  ugly  place." 

"  Charles  in  his  excitement — for  we  imagine  that  even  his  pulse 
had  beaten  with  increased  rapidity — had  evidently  missed  the  right 
direction  and  described  a  curve,  had  returned  to  the  basin  before 
the  cave.  Fearing  to  fare  worse  in  a  second  contact  with  the  party 
in  the  cave  he  rowed  away  as  fast  as  he  could,  choosing  the  wide 
channel  on  account  of  the  greater  chance  for  speed  it  ottered.  But 
he  had  hardly  gone  over  the  space  of  a  few  hundred  yards  when  an 
exclamation  of  Dolores'  caused  him  to  cease  rowing  and  to  turn 
around.  There  at  a  distance  of  not  more  than  a  hundred  feet  lay 


DOLORES.  93 

a  small  brig  barely  visible  through  the  fissures  and  intervals  of  the 
rocks,  which  at  that  place  were  densely  planted.  A  boat  like  that 
which  the  two  had  seen  in  the  cave  was  lying  at  the  side  of  the  ves 
sel,  and  a  party  of  men  were  busily  engaged  in  loading  it  with 
boxes  by  means  of  a  pulley  which  was  fastened  to  the  end  of  the 
main  sail-yard.  Fortunately  the  men  were  too  busy  with  their 
work  to  notice  the  pair  in  the  boat,  and  Charles  soon  succeeded  in 
gaining  a  point  where  they  were  secure  against  discovery. 

"  The  plot  thickens,  Dol,"  the  lad  said  with  a  puzzled  counte 
nance,  but  I  feel  pretty  sure  now  that  my  guess  was  correct." 

"What  guess,  Charlie?" 

"That  the  men  in  the  cave  are  smugglers." 

"  But  what  should  they  smuggle  at  this  point?" 

'•That's  what  puzzles  me.  If  they  only  hadn't  secured  our  si 
lence  by  making  us  swear,  I'd  soon  smoke  them  out  and  know  all 
about  it."  <*•*., 

Another  exclamation  or  the  girl  caused  another  stoppage  of  the 
lad's  labor.  Turning  around  he  saw  before  him  an  avenue  of  con 
siderable  width,  at  the  end  of  which  was  the  sea.  This  avenue, 
however,  was  not  open  but  closed  by  a  large  number  of  rocks  which 
stood  there  even  more  densely  than  at  most  other  places,  just  as  if 
nature  had  intended  to  hide  this  easy  access  to  the  harbor  where  the 
brig  was  riding  at  anchor.  The  outlet  was  on  the  left  hand  side, 
hardly  visible  from  the  ocean,  because  guarded  by  various  groups 
of  rocky  pillars  which  concealed  the  entrance  without  impeding  it. 
Through  the  intervals  of  the  closing  palisades  they  saw7  the  rocky 
island  and  on  it  the  figure  of  Henry  who  was  deeply  engrossed  with 
this  sport.  AVhen  they  first  discovered  him  he  was  just  engaged  in 
hauling  up  a  fish,  and  Dolores  requested  her  companion  to  take  her 
out  at  once,  because  she  wanted  to  see  the  sport.  Turning  the  cor 
ner  the  boat  soon  swam  on  the  open  sea,  loudly  welcomed  by  the 
boy  on  the  rock,  who  in  spite  of  his  entertaining  pastime  was  evi 
dently  glad  to  see  the  adventurers  safely  return  from  a  place  so 
badly  reputed  in  the  village.  Seeing  his  brother  without  any  booty 
he  laughed  and  said,  triumphantly: 

"Where  are  the  eagles,  Charles  ?  Wouldn't  the  ghost  allow  you 
to  take  them  away  ?  May  be  I  chose  the  better  part  this  time  ;  for 


94  DOLORES. 

look  at  the  fish  I  caught  in  the  meantime.     Did  you  ever  see  more 
splendid  fellows  ? 

Charles  and  Dolores  could  not  help  admiring  the  really  fine  fish 
which  Henry  displayed  by  raising  from  the  water  a  line  to  which 
they  had  been  fastened  in  order  to  prevent  their  exposure  to  the 
sun.  A  desire  of  imitation  seizing  them  they  both  went  to  the  rock 
and  threw  their  tackles  into  the  water,  but  without  much  success, 
greatly  to  the  delight  of  Henry,  who  continued  to  be  as  lucky,  or 
as  he  pretended,  as  skillful  as  ever.  Half  an  hour  after  the  return 
of  the  others  he  declared  his  intention  to  stop,  as  he  would  find  dif 
ficulty  in  taking  to  the  house  the  fish  he  had  caught  already.  The 
others  acquiesced,  and  it  really  seemed  as  if  the  desire  to  change  the 
current  of  their  thoughts  more  than  the  pleasure  of  the  sport  had 
induced  them  to  make  an  attempt  at  fishing.  The  trio  went  into 
the  boat,  and  rowing  in  silence  to  the  place  of  landing  deserted  the 
vessel  in  a  much  more  sober  mood  than  that  in  which  they  had  en 
tered  it. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

FLUCTUATIONS. 

If  anything  had  beeii  wanting  to  complete  the  intimacy  of 
Charles  and  Dolores  it  was  the  common  secret  which  they  were  now 
compelled  to  harbor  in  their  hearts.  Being  prevented  from  com 
municating  their  discoveries  and  adventures  to  others,  they 
could  not  refrain  from  making  them  the  topic  of  frequent  conver 
sations.  Their  friendship,  moreover,  became  so  fast  and  ardent 
from  the  fact  that  they  had  no  other  channels  for  their  flow  of  feei 
ng.  As  we  have  said  before  Charles  was  of  a  reserved  and  some 
what  haughty  disposition,  and  even  his  brother  Henry  did  not  es 
cape  the  condescending  nonchalance  with  which  he  treated  both 
boys  and  girls  of  his  acquaintance.  He  was  conscious  of  his  mental 
and  physical  superiority,  and  this  is  no  wonder,  for  not  only  in 
school  had  he  long  ago  outdistanced  all  competitors  for  distinction, 
but  also  on  several  hard  fought  battle-fields  proved  his  superior 


DOLORES.  95 

strength  and  prowess.  Experiencing  no  opposition  in  anything  he 
did  or  said  he  had  unconsciously  acquired  the  vice,  resulting  from 
unrestrained  sway,  of  willfulness  and  imperiousness.  Even  his  par 
ents  yielded  to  his  influence,  and  it  was  well  for  the  young  man 
that  his  intellect  was  so  strong  and  his  taste  and  disposition  so  pure, 
or  the  want  of  wholesome  restraint  might  have  proved  even  more 
injurious  than  it  really  did.  As  it  was  he  had  only  acquired  the 
evil  habits  spoken  of  and  the  hatred  of  ever  so  many  individuals  of 
his  age  and  sex,  who  had  once  been  rivals  and  all  of  them  sustained 
defeats  more  or  less  humiliating.  Like  all  persons  of  prominence 
he  did  not  escape  either  hatred  or  envy,  though  so  far  he  had  found 
in  the  knowledge  of  this  fact  merely  a  source  of  proud  exultation,  a 
proof  that  as  yet  his  enemies  had  not  succeeded  in  touching  any 
vital  spot. 

His  brother  Henry  was  no  exception  to  the  rule.  As  long  as  he 
could  remember  Charles  had  always  been  an  authority  to  him,  to 
brave  which  was  totally  out  of  the  question.  But  ready  obedience 
engenders  the  relation  of  master  and  servant,  and  this  relation  ex 
cludes  friendship.  We  have  heard  and  read  of  ardent  attachments 
between  such  parties,  but  on  close  examination  always  found  that 
they  failed  to  stand  the  test  of  friendship.  The  slave  may  love  his 
master  with  fidelity,  but  the  dog  may  do  the  same  thing  ;  and  yet 
the  animal  crouching  at  his  master's  feet  is  not  his  friend  in  the 
true  sense  of  the  word.  The  master  may  dote  upon  his  servant  with 
warm  affection;  he  may  love  him  sufficiently  to  expose  his  life  for 
him  ;  still  pure  friendship  he  cannot  feel,  because  the  principal  and 
fundamental  condition  of  friendship  is  equality. 

Henry  did  not  love  his  brother,  while  the  latter  only  enter 
tained  a  feeling  of  kind  toleration  for  the  former.  Yet  Henry  was 
not  so  much  his  brother's  inferior  in  intellect  as  in  character.  He 
comprehended  things  as  fast,  but  his  thirst  for  knowledge,  instead 
of  being  the  steady,  even  flame  that  seeks  to  light  up  the  dark  re 
cesses  of  nature,  resembled  more  the  fitful,  way  ward  streak  of  light 
ning,  more  consuming  and  destroying  than  ennobling  and  enlighen- 
ing.  Between  such  flashes  long  periods  of  total  darkness  were  the 
rule  for  him,  and  instead  of  being  the  joy  of  his  parents  and  teach 
ers  he  had  proved  to  them  a  source  of  sorrow  and  vexation  in  pro 
portion  to  his  growing  age. 


96  DOLORES. 

The)7  had  constantly  drawn  a  parallel  between  him  and  his 
brother,  extolling'the  latter  at  his  expense,  and  this,  though  per 
haps  just  enough,  had  in  no  small  degree  influenced  his  feelings 
towards  Charles.  Now  the  latter's  new  attachment  to  Dolores  had 
made  matters  even  worse  ;  for  the  spare  moments  of  the  elder 
brother,  which  had  formerly  in  a  measure  been  devoted  to  the 
younger  one,  were  now  much  more  pleasantly  spent  in  Dolores' 
company.  It  is  hard  to  say  how  Henry  would  have  liked  the  girl 
under  different  circumstances  ;  as  it  was,  the  influence  she  acquired 
over  one  generally  so  inaccessible,  and  the  additional  estrangement 
it  caused  between  them,  much  as  it  was  against  her  wish  and  will, 
could  hardly  be  productive  of  much  sympathy  between  them. 

For  Charles,  however,  the  acquisition  of  his  new  friend  was 
very  fortunate.  What  he  had  failed  to  meet  with  among  all  his 
comrades — an  equal  spirit  with  whifh  he  might  struggle  without 
the  danger  of  too  great  a  preeminency,  he  now  found  unexpectedly 
in  this  little  girl.  He  had  at  first  attempted  to  treat  her  like  the 
others,  but  had  experienced  a  signal  failure.  Yet  she  had  not  re 
buked  him,  not  bandied  words  with  him,  or  in  the  least  assumed  the 
position  of  an  antagonist.  No,  there  was  a  certain  something  in  her 
quiet,  unobtrusive  manner  which  said,  more  effectually  than  any 
words  could  have  done : 

"Stop,  sir,  if  you  please;  this  will  not  answer  in  my  case.  If 
you  and  I  are  to  be  friends,  it  must  be  on  a  different  footing." 

This  language  her  manners  had  spoken  with  much  benefit  to 
him.  He  not  only  abstained  from  attempts  to  domineer  over 
her,  but  showed  even  more  regard  for  the  wishes  and  feelings  of 
others  and  especially  his  parents,  who,  thongh  proud  of  their  prom 
ising  son,  could  not  be  totally  blind  to  his  faults.  They  noticed 
the  change  and  ascribing  it  correctly  to  her  influence,  received  the 
girl  in  their  house  and  arms  with  paternal  fondness  and  vied  with 
the  parson  and  his  sister  to  make  her  happy. 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  under  these  genial  circum 
stances  the  happy  germs  in  this  gifted  creatures  nature  developed 
with  truly  astonishing  rapidity.  Her  course  of  study  might  fitly 
be  compared  to  the  race  of  the  noble  steed,  which,  out  distancing 
all  competitors,  reaches  the  mark  in  an  incredibly  short  time  and 
thus  gains  the  palm.  But  while  some  children  skip  and  hurry 


DOLORES.  97 

over  the  field  of  learning  to  show  a  piecemeal  erudition,  a  super 
ficial  and  fragmentary  knowledge  as  the  result,  that  of  Dolores  was 
the  very  reverse.  To  learn  a  thing  and  to  remember  it  was  the 
same  with  her,  and  Charles  was  more  than  once  compelled  to  have 
recourse  to  her  memory  in  matters  pertaining  to  the  rudimental 
studies.  Such  applications,  however,  instead  of  causing  jealousy 
gave  him  much  delight,  as  they  were  so  many  reasons  in  his  eyes 
why  he  should  love  and  cherish  this  clever  child. 

One  day  he  found  an  Italian  quotation  in  one  of  his  books  and 
being  ignorant  of  that  language  went  to  Dolores  to  have  it  trans 
lated.  It  was  the  first  Italian  she  had  seen  for  a  good  while  and 
her  eye  lit  up  with  enthusiasm  when  she  interpreted  the  quota 
tion.  She  found  a  little  difficulty  in  doing  it,  however,  and  ex 
pressed  her  fear  to  Charles  that  she  would  soon  forget  her  native 
tongue  from  want  of  practice.  This  remark  resulted  in  the  adopt- 
tion  of  a  new  study  for  the  two  in  which  the  general  order  was  re 
versed,  Dolores  appearing  as  the  teacher  and  Charles  as  her  pupil. 
We  know  him  to  be  an  apt  scholar,  but  yet  his  progress  in  Italian , 
great  as  it  was,  was  far  from  equaling  the  proficiency  which  the 
girl  soon  acquired  in  German.  Before  a  month  of  study  had  pass 
ed  she  was  able  to  understand  the  parents  of  Charles  Fuchs  and 
converse  with  them  fluently  on  all  ordinary  topics.  But  Charles 
maintained  that  even  Dolores  could  not  have  accomplished  this  if 
the  language  had  not  been,  as  it  were,  sleeping  in  her  mind.  She 
must  have  understood  it  in  early  childhood,  he  said,  or  all  smart 
ness  in  creation  would  not  divest  this  phenomenon  of  its  miracu 
lous  character. 

So  the  winter  was  one  of  earnest  study  and  genial  intercourse 
in  the  house,  but  it  was  also  one  of  healthy  recreation  and  pleasant 
passtime  without.  No  sooner  had  winter  with  icy  hand  bound  up 
the  streams  and  ponds  and  spread  a  warm  covering  of  snow  over 
the  sleeping  herbs  and  flowers,  when  the  young  people  exposed 
their  persons  to  its  icy  breath,  now  gliding  on  skates  over  the 
glassy  ice,  now  hitching  Charles'  own  horse  to  a  handsome  sleigh 
and  by  the  merry  tinkling  of  the  bells  flying  with  the  swiftness  of 
an  arrow  over  the  smooth  course. 

At  last  Christmas  came,  bringing  Mr.  Fox,  himself  instead  of 
the  box  of  presents  which  Dolores  had  been  led  to  expect.  Not 


98  DOLORES. 

that  the  box  had  been  left  behind,  oh,  no  !  it  also  came  along  and 
much  larger  than  expected.  Now  Dolores  was  all  life  and  joy  and 
motion,  not  on  account  of  the  presents,  not  she  !  The  girl  had  a 
grateful  heart  and  amidst  so  much  love  and  affection  had  not  for 
gotten  him  who  had  befriended  her  before  all  others  and  extended 
to  her  a  helping  hand  at  the  expense  of  his  domestic  peace.  Dolores 
was  not  blind  to  his  imperfections,  but  they  did  not  in  the  least 
affect  the  love  she  bore  him.  Dolores  thought  so  at  any  rate,  or 
rather  felt  so  ;  for  as  we  have  more  than  once  intimated,  the  little 
girl  reasoned  by  perception  and  argued  by  intuition.  When  first 
he  alighted  from  the  carriage  at  the  parsonage,  she  flew  into  his 
embrace  and  for  a  long  while  would  not  release  him.  At  last, 
when  she  withdrew  her  arms,  she  commented  on  his  appearance, 
telling  him  that  the  sojourn  in  town  did  not  at  all  agree  with  him. 
And  she  was  right,  for  he  had  got  much  thinner  and  an  additional 
wrinkle  had  laid  itself  across  his  forehead.  At  first,  in  the  excite 
ment  of  reunion,  this  wrinkle  did  not  amount  to  much  and  the 
merry  emotions  of  his  heart  seemed  not  only  to  have  the  power  to 
smooth  that  one,  but  all  the  others  also.  But  when  the  first  up 
roar  had  subsided  and  his  features  had  glided  back  into  every  day 
shape,  the  wrinkle  returned  and  deepened  and  obtruded  itself  upon 
the  gazer,  as  if  it  meant  to  say  :  ' '  Here  I  am  !  here  I  mean  to  re 
main,  I  am  a  reality,  I  am  a  chapter  of  this  man's  history,  as  you 
can  learn  if  you  only  have  the  key  that  opens  his  lips. 

With  Dolores  the  case  was  different,  her  body  had  developed 
almost  as  her  mind  and  the  glow  on  her  cheeks  intensified  by  the 
bracing  winter  air  spoke  of  health  and  strength.  Three  short 
months  had  hardly  elapsed  since  his  departure  to  the  city,  and  yet 
this  girl  had  gained  that  roundness  of  form  which  only  childhood 
can  give.  He  might  have  remained  in  the  cold,  who  knows  how 
long,  fondling  his  girl  and  asking  and  answering  questions,  if  Miss 
Sarah  had  not  finally  protested  and  insinuated  that  a  continuation 
in  the  parlor  would  be  acceptable  all  around.  So  they  went  in  and 
the  box  was  also  brought,  though  under  protest  too,  since  it  must 
not  be  opened  before  Christmas  eve.  Then  Dolores  told  him  that 
Mrs.  Fuchs  was  going  to  have  a  beautiful  Christmas  tree  and  had 
invited  her  to  be  her  guest  that  night,  and  then  argued  that  Mr. 
Fox  must  also  go,  or  she  couldn't  at  all  think  of  it,  and  yet  she 


DOLORES.  99 

would  like  to  go  very  much.  Mr.  Fox  promised  her  to  go  along  if 
she  could  secure  him  an  invitation,  a  task  which  Dolores  took  upon 
herself  with  a  gravity  truly  becoming 

Mr.  Fox  could  not  stay  long.  Besides  the  desire  to  see  Dolores 
the  condition  of  the  factory  had  necessitated  his  presence.  In  com 
menting  to  the  parson  on  the  latter  subject  the  wrinkle  on  his 
brow  grew  a  little  deeper,  and  it  was  evident  that  pecuniary 
troubles  had  been  added  to  the  domestic  ones.  The  management 
of  Mr.  Wood  was  without  a  flaw,  he  said  to  the  minister,  and  yet 
the  income  had  been  so  much  reduced  as  hardly  to  meet  the  many 
expenses  unavoidable  in  so  large  a  household  as  his.  He  wanted 
to  see  for  himself,  he  said,  though  he  knew  beforehand  that  it 
would  avail  him  nothing,  since  he  could  do  no  better  or  hardly  so 
well  as  Mr.  Wood,  whose  only  fault  was  too  great  fidelity  to  his 
employer. 

To  this  Mr.  Goodman  neither  objected  nor  assented.  Personally 
he  did  not  like  Mr.  Wood,  but  he  was  far  too  honorable  to  allow 
his  likes  or  dislikes  to  influence  his  words  or  actions,  unless  they 
were  seconded  by  outside  reasons  of  weight.  The  laborers  in  the 
factory  did  not  like  Mr.  Wood  either,  they  had  often  intimated  it 
to  Mr.  Goodman,  but  severity  was  not  necessarily  iniquity  and  Mr. 
Wood's  fidelity  to  his  employer  might  indeed  have  been  the  cause 
of  his  exacting  rigor.  So  Mr.  Goodman  remained  silent  on  the 
subject  and  it  was  dropped  without  any  further  remarks  concern 
ing  it. 

The  next  morning  John  came  from  the  mansion  with  the  sleigh 
and  drove  Mr.  Fox  and  Dolores  to  the  factory.  The  doors  of  the 
establishment  were  now  closed  against  the  cold,  but  the  busy  life 
within  was  the  same  which  Dolores  had  witnessed  on  the  occasion 
of  her  first  visit.  Only  one  feature  was  new  ;  Charles  and  Henry, 
occupying  a  workbench  for  themselves,  were  now  amongst  the 
laborers,  both  working  away  with  a  good  will,  though  with 
different  results.  On  close  examination  one  could  see  good  progress 
on  the  article  in  the  hand  of  Charles,  while  Henry's  work  showed 
the  marks  of  a  bungler.  Old  Mr.  Fu'chs  was  with  the  boys  when 
Fox  and  Dolores  were  approaching  their  bench,  and  from  the  look 
of  vexation  in  the  father's  face  and  that  of  sullenness  in  Henry's  it 
was  evident  that  a  lecture  had  just  ended.  When  Mr.  Fuchs,  how- 


100  DOLORES. 

ever,  noticed  the  presence  of  his  employer,  the  cloud  passed  from 
his  face.  Smiling  officiously  and  quickly  baring  his  head,  he  wel 
comed  Mr.  Fox  and  expressed  his  satisfaction  at  seeing  him  well. 

Mr.  Fox  took  him  aside. 

"Old  friend,"  he  said,  "a  word  in  confidence." 

"  How  does  the  mill  fare  ?" 

Fuchs  played  his  old  game  in  casting  uneasy  glances  in  every 
direction, 

"Fare?  Mr.  Fox,  why  she  fares  well  enough.  As  far  as  I  know 
she  goes  on  as  usual." 

"  The  same  number  of  hands?" 

"  The  same  number,  sir.' 

"  The  same  amount  of  work  finished?" 

"To  all  appearances,  yes,  sir.  Mr.  Wood  ought  to  be  able  to 
answer  that  question." 

"  But  I  want  your  statement.  From  the  books  I  see  that  you 
have  changed  a  number  of  hands." 

"  Mr.  Wood's  doings,  sir. 

"Were  those  dismissed  unfit  ?" 

*'  Not  to  my  knowledge." 

"  Are  the  new  ones  better  ?" 

Mr.  Fuchs  winced  at  the  directness  of  this  question.  Faltering 
between  the  wish  to  serve  his  employer  and  the  fear  of  securing 
the  enmity  of  the  superintendent,  he  answered  : 

"  Why  no.     That  is  they  may,  but  I  think—" 

"  You  also  ship  your  goods  to  different  customers,  I  perceive." 

"So  it  seems  from  the  marking  on  the  boxes." 

"But  what  in  the  world  can  be  the  reason  "? 

Mr.  Fuchs  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  The  new  purchasers  pay  less  and  pay  poorly." 

Mr.  Fuchs  repeated  his  gesture. 
Can  you  tell  me  why  Stellman  &  Co.  no  longer  buy  from  us?" 

Well,  it  is 1  think  it  is,   because  we  sent  them — at  least 

I  think  so — a  poor  article." 

Mr.  Fuchs  seemed  to  be  astonished  at  his  own  audacity,  for  he 
drew  a  deep  breath  after  finishing  his  remark. 

"A  poor  article?  Why  in  the  world  did  you  send  them  a 
poorer  article  than  formerly  ?" 


;  i 


DOLOKES.  101 

"Not  my  doing,  sir.     Mr.  Wood,  you  know— 

' '  Ah  yes,  1  forgot.  Well,  never  mind,  Mr.  Fuchs,  I'll  go  to 
see  him  ;  only  I  wish  you  would  keep  your  eyes  open  as  much  as 
possible  and  report  to  me  if  you  see  anything  wrong.  Will  you  do 
that,  Mr.  Fuchs  ?" 

"Of  course  I  will,  sir,  and  with  much  pleasure,"  said  the  fore 
man,  lifting  his  cap  again  and  leading  Mr.  Fox  to  the  door  where 
Dolores  joined  him,  after  having  talked  to  Charles  in  the  mean 
time.  At  the  door  Mr.  Fox  turned  back. 

"  Charles,  my  lad,  can  you  corne  here  a  moment?" 

When  the  lad  was  at  his  side  he  continued : 

"  Charlie,  I  learn  from  Dolores  that  she  has  an  invitation  from 
your  mother  for  Christmas  eve.  Can  you  secure  one  for  me  too?" 

"Of  course  I  can,  Mr.  Fox;  but  it  is  unnecessary  ;  you  know 
you  are  welcome  without  invitation." 

' '  May  be,  my  son,  but  I  want  one  nevertheless,  and  I  want  you 
to  come  and  deliver  it  in  person  this  evening  at  the  parsonage.  Do 
you  understand,  Charlie  ?" 

"I  think  I  do,  sir,"  Charles  replied  construing  the  other  re 
marks  as  a  hint  that  he  wanted  to  speak  to  him  privately.  "  I'll 
not  fail  to  come." 

"Very  well,  my  boy,  that  will  do." 

A  few  minutes  afterwards  Mr.  Fox  stepped  into  the  office.  Mr. 
Wood  had  received  the  news  of  his  arrival  but  he  feigned  surprise. 

"Why,  Cousin  Edward,  this  is  unexpected,"  he  said  joyfully, 
springing  to  his  feet  and  extending  his  hand  to  the  new  comer  with 
evident  tokens  of  pleasure  in  his  face.  "What  brings  you  in  so 
rough  a  season  into  the  country  ?" 

If  a  thought  of  suspicion  had  dwelled  in  the  mind  of  Mr.  Fox, 
this  cordial  reception  was  apt  to  chase  it  away  in  one  so  unsophis 
ticated.  He  was  even  somewhat  ashamed  of  it  and  hastened  to  re- 

ply- 

"Why,  Richard,  I  came  to  see  this  little  girl  of  mine.  That  is 
my  principal  errand,  and  MS  a  secondary  matter  I  thought  I  might 
consult  with  you  about  the  factory  and  see  whether  we  couldn't 
possibly  make  the  concern  a  little  more  remunerative.  Your  re- 
imttences  have  dwindled  down  to  such  pittances  that  I  have  been 
forced  to  considerably  overdraw  my  deposits  in  the  bank." 


102  DOLORES. 

If  Mr.  Fox  had  watched  his  foreman  closely  in  making  this 
statement,  he  might  have  seen  a  flash  of  malignant  joy  shooting 
from  his  eyes,  but  it  was  not  in  the  good  natured  character  of  that 
gentleman  to  watch  other  people's  features  for  the  purpose  of  read 
ing  their  souls.  So  Mr.  Wood  found  sufficient  time  to  bring  his 
countenance  into  that  doleful  cast  which  fitted  the  disagreeable 
revelations  of  the  proprietor. 

"Why,  I  am  glad  you  came,"  he  said  with  a  voice  whose  capti 
vating  sweetness  was  still  enhanced  by  a  sympathetic  touch. 

"I  have  been  ill  at  ease  all  this  while  and  felt  the  weight  of 
responsibility  as  a  crushing  burden." 

"Oh  well,  you  must  not  take  the  thing  so  much  to  heart,"  said 
Mr.  Fox.  Our  embarrassment  may  be  only  temporary ;  indeed  I 
hope  it  will  be  and  that  spring  may  restore  us  to  our  old  prosper- 
ity." 

"And  so  do  I,"  Wood  eagerly  struck  in.  "I  have  done  my 
very  best  to  avert  it  and  even  proposed  measures  that  drew  the 
odium  of  the  hands  upon  me.  Still,  if  you  think  that  under  a 
different  management  the  business  would  revive,  I  am  perfectly 
willing  to  retire  from  my  situation." 

Mr.  Fox  was  startled  at  the  thought  of  the  bare  possibility  of 
such  a  step  and  the  cunning  manager  knew  it,  or  he  would  never 
have  ventured  such  a  proposition.  He  knew  that  Mr.  Fox  loathed 
the  idea  of  taking  such  a  burden  as  the  management  of  the  factory 
upon  himself,  and  that  he  necessarily  must  dislike  the  idea  of 
changing  superintendents  at  the  time  of  a  crisis.  Moreover  the 
service  of  Mr.  Wood  had  always  been  so  faithful ;  he  had  guarded 
the  interest  of  his  employer  with  such  sacrifice  of  self  that  even  a 
more  disci  iminating  man  than  Mr.  Fox  might  well  have  hesitated 
to  feel  suspicious  of  one  who  had  so  well  stood  the  test  of  many 
years.  So,  when  the  proprietor  had  once  more  examined  the  books 
»nd  found  them  kept  with  the  old  scrupulous  neatness  and  exact 
ness  he  dropped  all  the  questions  he  had  intended  asking,  and  after 
a  consultation  of  more  than  an  hour  left  the  factory  in  no  ways 
wiser  than  he  had  entered  it.  During  the  day  he  was  unusually 
still,  and  when  Charles  arrived  in  the  evening,  he  had  not  yet  re 
covered  the  healthy  tone  which  generally  characterized  his  man 
ners.  The  youth  formally  delivered  his  mother's  invitation,  wait- 


DOLORES.  103 

ing  for  further  developments  at  some  suitable  moment.  Mr.  Fox, 
however,  allowed  several  favorable  opportunities  of  speaking  to 
him  to  pass  by  without  benefitting  by  them,  and  Charles,  thinking 
he  might  have  forgotten  his  purpose,  resolved  to  aid  his  memory. 
Waiting  until  he  was  alone  with  Mr.  Fox  and  Dolores,  whom  he 
evidently  did  not  consider  in  the  light  of  an  obstacle,  he  said  : 

"Mr.  Fox,  when  you  begged  me  this  morning  to  deliver  my 
mother's  invitation  in  person,  you  meant  more  than  you  said  ;  at 
least  I  thought  that  you  desired  to  speak  to  me  in  confidence.  Was 
I  correct  in  that  opinion  ?" 

Mr.  Fox  started  from  his  pensive  mood.  He  looked  to  the 
bright  eye  of  the  youth  with  pleasure  and  then  said  : 

"  You  were  right,  Charlie  ;  a  new  proof  that  you  are  a  clever 
lad.  However,  I  have  learned  something  since  that  makes  my 
communication  unnecessary,  and  I  shall  now  forbear  annoying  you 
with  my  troubles." 

After  these  words  Dolores  pushed  her  chair  nearer  to  his  and, 
laying  her  hand  upon  his  knee,  looked  earnestly  into  his  gloomy 
countenance. 

"  Papa  Fox,  there  is  something  the  matter  with  you,"  she  said, 
"  and  I  want  to  know  it.  It  won't  trouble  me  a  bit  and  I  am  sure 
Charles,  neither,  for  that  matter." 

"No,  indeed,  sir,  I'll  be  glad  to  do  anything  for  your  sake," 
the  youth  earnestly  asserted. 

Mr.  Fox  was  moved. 

"Why,  children,  it  isn't  so  very  much,"  he  said,  "and  I  may 
as  well  tell  you,  if  only  to  set  your  mind  at  ease  about  it." 

He  stopped  a  moment  and  the  absent  look  of  his  eyes  showed 
plainly  that  his  mind  was  wandering;  over  the  past.  The  children 
did  not  interrupt  him,  but  with  respectful  consideration  fixed  their 
looks  upon  him,  waiting  for  the  moment  when  he  would  be  ready 
to  break  the  silence.  At  last  he  sighed  deeply  and  turning  to  the 
children,  said  : 

' '  Excuse  me,  children,  if  I  kept  you  waiting  ;  but  what  I  have 
to  say  to  you  embodies  thoughts  of  distrust  to  those  I  have  been 
trusting  many  years,  and  it  is  but  natural  that  I  should  hesitate 
to  plant  into  your  young  hearts  the  seeds  of  feelings  which  embit 
ter  the  mind  and  can  not  be  easily  eradicated  again.  Still,  you 


104  DOLORES. 

desire  to  learn  my  troubles  and  I  accept  your  sacrifice  ;  for  it  is  in 
deed  pleasant  to  have  confidents,  though  they  be  young  and  unex 
perienced." 

Again  he  stopped  a  minute.     Then  resuming  he  continued  : 

"  There  are  several  things  that  trouble  me,  and  if  I  once  reveal 
them  to  you,  I  may  as  well  make  a  clean  breast  of  it.  You  know 
my  relations  to  Mrs.  Fox  and  I  think  that  hardly  requires  an  ex 
planation." 

His  companions  nodded  and  Mr.  Fox  continued. 

"Lately  the  difficulty  has  extended  to  the  children  and  that  is 
one  thing  that  worries  me  considerably.  Lucy  is  totally  under  the 
influence  of  her  mother  and  if  not  removed  from  it,  will  soon  be 
nothing  but  a  senseless  doll,  an  idle  worshiper  of  fashion.  It  is 
hard  to  speak  so  of  my  own  daughter  but  it  is  only  the  sad  truth. 
To  make  matters  worse,  I  see  no  remedy." 

Charles  seemed  to  think  differently,  to  judge  from  the  expres 
sion  of  his  face. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Fox,  it  appears  to  me  as  if  you  could  easily  stop 
those  bad  proceedings.  Lucy  surely  is  a  good  girl,  and  if  you  pro 
nounced  a  firm  "veto"  to  Mrs.  Fox's  fashionable  affairs " 

He  stopped. 

"Charlie,  you  do  not  understand  these  things.  In  forcing 
measures,  as  you  advise,  I  would  make  life  one  continual  torture 
which  I  could  not  endure.  Besides,  Lucy's  course  is  annoying  me 
less  than  that  of  Richard  who  shows  all  the  symptoms  oi*  a  preco 
cious  depravity.  He  indulges  in  every  fashionable  vice  and  spends 
more  money  than  I  am  able  to  pay,  even  if  I  were  inclined  to  do 
so.  He  finds  no  difficulty  in  securing  credit  and  thus  far  I  have 
not  come  to  the  extreme  measure  of  withdrawing  my  assistance  in 
paying  his  debts ;  but  he  must  have  other  sources  than  my  purse, 
for  the  bills  that  come  to  me  for  settlement  can  not  possibly  contain 
all  the  items  of  his  expenditures.  He  must  receive  encouragement 
from  without." 

"  His  mother  ?"  Charles  suggested. 

"  Has  not  money  enough  to  defray  her  own  expenses  and  contin 
ually  troubles  me  for  contributions.  No,  he  must  have  a  friend  in 
terested  in  his  ruin." 

"  Or  yours,"  Charles  suggested. 


DOLORES.  105 

Mr.  Fox  started.     With  a  troubled  look  he  said  : 
"  The  same  idea!     You  meet  me  halfway.     Charlie,  what  do 
you  mean  ?" 

' '  Nothing  definite  ;  your  remark  suggested  the  idea." 
"  But  it  has  haunted  me,  too,  I  do  not  know  why  ;  it  caused  my 
remark  to  you  this  morning,  and  now,  when  I  mean  to  confide  it  to 
you  as  a  secret,  I  meet  it  on  your  lips." 

"  Through  me  it  shall  not  reach  any  other  ears,  sir." 
"  I  know,  Charlie,  and  therefore  choose  you  as  a  confidant  in 
spite  of  your  youth.     Your  father,  though  ray  good  and  faithful 
friend,  is  not  cunning  enough  to  do  me  much  good.     You  see  I 
place  great  confidence  in  you,  Charlie." 
"  I  appreciate  your  goodness." 

"  Goodness,  Charlie?     No,  indeed,  my  lad  ;  it  is  anything  but 
goodness  to  draw  your  youthful  mind  into  my  troubles.     Still,  I 
desire  it,  you  expect  it,  and  so  I  suppose  it  has  to  be." 
Another  short  pause. 

"  Has  your  mother  ever  broached  this  subject  to  you,  Charlie?" 
"No,  sir,  not  to  my  recollection.     She  has  her  likes   and  dis 
likes,  but  beyond  that — 

"  Very  well,  so  I  shall  have  to  give  names,  after  all.  The  man 
whom  I  have  always  considered  my  fast  friend  and  only  lately  been 
led  to  suspect  is — 

"A  person  whom  I  know  without  your  naming  him,"  Charlie 
interrupted.  "  I  must  confess  that  strange  things  have  happened 
in  the  factory  since  my  admittance,  but  I  thought  they  might  pos 
sibly  be  explained  in  a  natural  manner,  and  that  it  wasn't  my  busi 
ness  to  interfere. 

' '  But  now,  Charlie,  if  I  entreat  you  earnestly  to  make  it  your 
business,  will  you  promise  to  be  watchful  and  end  this  state  of  un 
certainty  which  destroys  the  little  peace  of  mind  left  me  and  threat, 
ens  to  reduce  me  to  beggary  at  the  same  time?" 
Charles  started. 

"  Is  it  as  bad  as  that,  MY.  Fox  ?  " 
"  Fully  as  bad  ;  but  you  haven't  promised  yet." 
"  Well,  then,  I  promise  ;  though  my  promise  conditions  a  work 
of  espionage  which  I  despise  and  wouldn't  undertake  for  everybody. 


106  DOLORES. 

But  I  always  liked  you,  Mr.  Fox,  and  like  you  doubly  since  you 
acted  so  kindly  to  this  little  girl." 

"  Why,  this  is  strange  !  So  you  befriended  me  on  her  account  ? 
It  really  seems  as  if  my  little  foster  daughter  were  destined  to  in 
demnify  me  for  all  the  misery  resulting  from  the  treachery  of  rela 
tions." 

He  stroked  Dolores'  curls  and  then  continued  : 

"  Mind,  Charlie,  I  want  no  guesses,  no  uncertainties.  I  guess 
already,  and  that  makes  me  wretched.  Only,  when  the  plainest 
evidence  establishes  his  guilt — then  and  then  only  speak  the  word 
that  is  to  decide  his  fate  and  mine." 

Charles  promised  and  this  ended  the  matter,  for  Mr.  Fox  de 
clared  that  he  had  full  confidence  in  the  youth  and  would  therefore 
abstain  from  any  rules  of  conduct.  This  was  of  course  agreeable  to 
Charles,  who  from  that  moment  bent  all  the  energy  of  his  mind  up 
on  the  mission  that  had  been  entrusted  to  him. 

Mr.  Wood  was  very  gay  that  evening.  The  interview  with  Mr. 
Fox  had  been  so  satisfactory  and  promising  that  he  thought  he 
might  allow  himself  and  his  accomplice,  George,  an  unusual  indul 
gence.  He  had  procured  several  bottles  of  wine  and  finished  them 
off  with  many  toasts  to  their  success  and  the  rifin  of  their  em 
ployer. 

If  he  had  known  what  formidable  foe  had  been  put  on  his  track 
that  very  night  he  might  have  felt  very  sober  in  spite  of  his  exces 
sive  drinking. 


CHAPTER  X. 

ON    THE    TRACK. 

Mrs.  Fuchs'  Christmas  party  had  been  a  great  success,  and  the 
box  from  the  city  its  crowning  feature.  Everybody  had  been  con 
sidered  by  the  kind  donor,  who,  however,  had  left  on  the  morning 
following,  thus  depriving  himself  of  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  faces 
which  his  liberality  had  caused  to  brighten.  In  consequence  of  his 
departure  the  two  families  had  sobered  down  and  the  young  people, 


DOLORES.  107 

excepting  Henry,  resumed  their  habits  of  industry.  Everything 
assumed  its  old  feature,  or  at  least  appeared  to  do  so,  for  in  reality 
there  were  two  secret  currents  running  under  the  surface  that 
seemed  so  tranquil.  Mr.  Wood  and  his  accomplice  carried  on  their 
nefarious  plan  which  was  to  result  in  the  financial  and  social  ruin 
of  Mr.  Fox  ;  but  while  they  were  lulling  themselves  into  a  false  se 
curity,  and  by  degrees  growing  bolder  in  their  operations,  a  vigi 
lant  eye  began  to  watch  every  motion  of  theirs,  encouraged  at  first 
merely  by  grateful  emotions  for  the  man  whose  ruin  was  being 
plotted  ;  but  by  and  by  also  by  discoveries  strange  and  startling. 

Charles  conducted  himself  with  the  greatest  caution.  Not  be 
ing  very  fond  ®f  the  occupants  of  the  office,  nor  indeed  a  favorite 
of  theirs,  he  took  good  care  not  to  excite  their  suspicion  by  too 
rapid  a  change  in  his  demeanor  toward  them.  He  needed  the  priv 
ilege  of  a  free  admission  to  the  office  and  the  books  and  to  gain  it 
managed  with  a  rare  tact.  Changing  gradually  from  a  cold  conduct 
to  polite  advances  first  to  George  and  afterward  to  Mr.  Wood,  he 
soon  exercised  over  them  the  charm  innate  in  his  person.  Benefit- 
ting  by  the  indulgence  of  Mr.  Fox  concerning  his  position  in  the 
factory,  he  examined  the  various  departments  with  an  eye  keen 
enough  to  penetrate  the  slightest  details.  The  first  thing  that  struck 
him  as  strange  was  the  nature  of  the  boxes  containing  the  steel  used 
for  the  manufactures  of  the  establishment.  They  were  of  two  sorts, 
one  very  unlike  the  other,  and  yet  marked  as  coming  from  the 
same  firm.  Even  the  handwriting  was  different,  both  sets  evidently 
emanating  from  different  individuals  who  preserved  too  distinctly 
their  peculiarities  to  be  mistaken. 

Another  suspicious  circumstance  was  the  difference  of  the  metal 
packed  in  the  different  boxes,  one  being  considerably  superior  to 
the  other,  as  Charles  knew  from  a  test  he  made  for  the  special  pur 
pose  of  ascertaining  their  quality.  Yet  there  was  no  distinction 
made  in  the  manufactory  as  to  the  material,  as  Charles  could  easily 
perceive  on  the  better  article  promiscuously  packed  and  sold  with 
the  inferior. 

What  could  this  signify  ?  Could  it  be  barely  possible  that  Mr. 
Wood  was  buying  the  inferior  stuff  without  the  knowledge  of  Mr. 
Fox  ?  Charles  resolved  to  ascertain  this  at  the  earliest  moment 
after  the  latter  gentleman's  return  to  the  country.  In  the  mean- 


108  DOLORES. 

time  he  worked  himself  into  the  good  graces  of  the  superinten 
dent  by  doing  little  turns  for  him  and  showing  such  aptness  in  mak 
ing  calculations  that  Mr.  Wood  readily  consented  when  Charles 
manifested  a  desire  to  devote  a  portion  of  his  time  to  the  study  of 
bookkeeping.  The  youth  wrote  a  beautiful  hand,  and  executed  the 
tasks  the  manager  set  him  with  such  rapidity  and  skill  that  Mr. 
Wood  was  at  once  surprised  and  pleased.  Soon  the  student  under 
stood  enough  about  the  management  of  the  various  books  to  exam 
ine  their  contents  with  a  critical  eye,  but  he  was  no  more  successful 
than  Mr.  Fox.  Whatever  might  be  the  character  of  other  transac 
tions  of  the  superintendent  his  books  were  evidently  unexception 
able.  Nor  did  Charles  wonder.  It  is  so  easy  for  a  practiced  eye  to 
discover  inaccuracies  in  books  containing  accounts  ;  the  figures  show 
such  merciless  conclusions  that  a  man  as  cunning  as  Mr.  Wood 
would  surely  be  very  cautious  not  to  be  caught  at  such  puerile  blun 
ders.  If  anything  was  wrong  it  had  to  be  looked  for  in  another 
province,  and  Charles  resolved  to  do  so.  He  returned  to  his  work 
bench,  and  with  redoubled  energy  renewed  his  observations  on  all 
the  different  branches  of  the  establishment. 

In  this  way  the  winter  wore  away  faster  than  Charles  could  rec 
ollect  it  to  have  done  before.  The  reason  was  evident ;  besides  the 
exciting  watch  on  affairs  in  the  establishment  he  had  his  studies  to 
attend  to,  and  above  all  his  new  friendship  to  engage  him  and  ab 
sorb  his  thoughts.  To  please  Dolores  he  shunned  no  labor  or  fa 
tigue,  and  many  a  tiresome  march  through  snow  and  slush  did  he 
make  for  the  purpose  of  either  catching  wild  animals  alive  to  give 
to  her  as  pets  or  killing  others  for  the  sake  of  their  fur,  of  which 
he  caused  articles  of  dress  to  be  manufactured  for  his  friend.  He 
spent  nearly  half  his  leisure  hours  at  the  parsonage,  and  his  mother 
would  have  become  outright  jealous  if  she  had  not  herself  loved  the 
little  giil  with  a  mother's  love  and  managed  to  secure  a  good  por 
tion  of  her  free  time  for  herself.  Indeed,  Dolores  spent  so  many 
hours  at  the  house  of  Mrs.  Fuchs  that  it  was  hard  to  say  which  was 
really  her  home,  the  parsonage  having  merely  the  advantage  of  the 
night.  Even  the  latter  Dolores  often  spent  at  the  cottage  of 
Charles'  parents,  and  the  desire  of  enjoying  the  girl's  company  drew 
the  families  much  more  together  and  made  them  much  more  inti 
mate  than  they  had  formerly  been.  Miss  Sarah  all  at  once  dis- 


DOLORES.  109 

covered  new  genial  features  in  Mrs.  Fuchs,  and  the  latter  declared 
she  daily  saw  new  points  in  the  spinster  that  deserved  love  and  ad 
miration  Dolores  lived  and  breathed  and  had  her  being  in  love 
and  tenderness,  and  her  nature  developed  in  consequence  with  the 
rapidity  and  luxuriance  of  the  tropics.  Of  the  rank  poison,  how 
ever,  peculiar  to  that  zone  she  was  entirely  free,  and  all  the  praise 
and  care  and  affection  bestowed  upon  her  merely  had  the  tendency 
of  coloring  more  deeply  the  amiable  traits  of  character. 

Besides  the  pleasure  her  studies  gave  her  she  delighted  in  noth 
ing  so  much  as  to  brave  the  hardships  of  the  season  and  in  Charles' 
company  roam  over  the  snow-covered  fields  and  forests  of  the  neigh 
borhood.  She  often  accompanied  him  on  his  hunting  excursions, 
and  though  of  a  very  tender  disposition  and  sensitive  character, 
could  admire  his  skill  as  a  marksman  and  look  with  childish  delight 
on  the  conquered  game  as  it  rapidly  increased,  finally  swelling  to  a 
burdensome  load.  She  was  totally  free  from  that  fashionable  weak 
ness  which  cannot  see  a  fly  killed,  though  it  does  not  hesitate  to 
worry  a  servant,  a  friend  or  relative  to  death.  Indeed  there  was 
nothing  sickly  in  the  girl's  nature,  her  body  being  as  healthy  as  her 
mind,  receiving  a  tone  and  vigor  by  the  judicious  course  of  exer 
cise  to  which  she  subjected  herself  that  could  not  be  surpassed. 

Dolores  had  been  present  at  the  interview  between  Mr.  Fox  and 
Charles,  and  she  now  was  the  only  confidant  to  whom  he  communi 
cated  the  progress  of  his  operations.  She  was  always  kept  au  fait, 
but  still  she  was  considerably  startled  when  late  one  evening  he  ap 
peared  at  the  parsonage,  gun  in  hand,  and"  with  a  countenance  all 
aglow  with  excitement.  Mr.  Goodman  was  in  his  study  and  Miss 
Sarah  in  the  dining-room  setting  the  table  for  the  next  day's  break 
fast,  so  Charles  found  Dolores  alone  and  could  at  once  unload  his 
heart  of  the  burden  with  which  it  was  evidently  oppressed. 

"  Why,  Charlie,  so  late  at  night!  I  did  not  expect  you  any 
more.  Where  do  you  come  from  ?  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

Charles  sat  down  beside  her  with  his  gun  between  his  knees. 

"Dolores,"  he  said,  with  shing  eyes,  "I  have  got  them  now." 

"Got  whom,  Charlie?" 

•"  Why,  the  rascals,  of  course,  on  whose  track  I  have  been  all 
this  while." 


110  DOLOKES. 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  You  did  discover  something,  then,  and  papa 
was  right  ? " 

"  He  was,  Dolores  ;  but  listen  and  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it.  You 
know  that  I  tracked  the  bear  the  other  day,  and  have  been  trying 
ever  since  to  get  the  cubs  for  you  ?  " 

"No,  dear  Charlie,  I  did  not  know  that ;  for  if  I  had  I  should 
have  begged  you  not  to  expose  yourself  so  much  for  my  sake." 

"Expose  myself  !  Why,  child,  don't  you  think  I'm  a  match  for 
any  bear  ?  I  have  made  more  than  one  rue  his  audacity  in  mak 
ing  a  stand  against  me.  But  that  is  not  the  point  now,  Dol  ;  I 
simply  meant  to  explain  to  you  how  I  came  to  make  the  great  dis 
covery  I  spoke  of.  Last  night  I  got  everything  ready  for  a  hunt 
and  before  daybreak  this  morning  I  started  on  my  way.  I  took  the 
road  to  the  bay,  because  there  the  bear  had  made  her  appearance. 
It  had  snowed  a  little  during  the  night,  and  when  I  reached  the 
shore  I  saw  the  fresh  tracks  of  horses  and  a  sled." 

He  stopped  and  looked  at  her  with  an  expectant  glance,  seem 
ing  to  wait  for  a  sign  of  surprise.  Yet  it  did  not  come, 

.  "  Well,  Charlie,  what  else  ?     That  surely  isn't  the  great  discov 
ery  you  spoke  of  ?  " 

Charles  laughed. 

"  Dol,  you  little  goosy,  it  wasn't  the  discovery,  but  it  led  to  it. 
What  do  you  suppose  I  thought  when  I  saw  the  track  ?  " 

' '  YTou  wondered  who  had  made  it." 

"No,  I  didn't,  for  I  knew  that  at  once  from  a  spoke  which  had 
been  left  behind.  It  was  painted  red  and  black,  and  belongs  to  the 
large  sled  of  the  factory." 

"Ah ! "  Dolores  exclaimed.     A  light  seemed  to  dawn  to  her. 

"  So  I  didn't  wonder  who  had  made  the  track,  but  rather  why 
they  had  made  it ;  moreover,  why  they  had  made  it  during  the 
night.  You  know  there  is  some  littled  ice  along  the  shore,  and  the 
track  went  to  the  very  water's  edge.  In  following  it  I  saw  in  the 
snow  the  impression  of  a  box  the  shape  of  which  struck  me  as  fa 
miliar.  I  thought  a  moment,  and  then  was  sure  that  it  had  been 
made  by  one  of  the  boxes  in  which  we  receive  the  metal  at  the  fac 
tory." 

"Ah!" 

"You  begin  to  see,  Dol,  don't  you  ?    Well,  a  blind  man  might, 


DOLOKES.  Ill 

for  that  matter,"  Charles  rejoined,  jokingly.  "Thinks  I  to  myself, 
Charlie,  what  can  this  signify  ?  A  box  from  the  factory,  and  well 
filled,  too,  for  the  impression  was  deep  and  sharp,  fetched  from  the 
seashore  in  the  dead  of  night.  1  was  puzzled,  but  only  for  a  mo 
ment,  for  all  at  once  a  flash  ran  through  my  mind,  lighting  up  my 
memory  with  a  wonderful  brightness.  I  had  seen  such  boxes  be 
fore  besides  those  at  the  factory.  I  had  seen  them  on  the  boat  in  the 
cave" 

These  words  were  spoken  with  an  impressive  voice,  and  to  in 
crease  the  effect  Charles  had  in  saying  them  seized  the  arm  of  his 
companion.  This  had  the  desired  effect.  Greatly  excited  she 
sprang  to  her  feet,  and  clasping  her  hands  .together  cried  in  a  hur 
ried  manner  : 

"  Oh,  the  cave,  the  dreadful  cave  !  I  shake  even  now  when  I 
think  of  it.  Charlie,  are  you  not  mistaken  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,  and  I'll  fathom  the  whole  thing.  Didn't  I  tell 
you  at  the  time  that  I  thought  those  men  were  smugglers  ?  " 

"  Yes,  you  did  ;  and  so  you  think — 

' '  That  they  are  smuggling  part  of  the  steel  from  which  we  man 
ufacture  our  cutlery." 

"But  why  should  they  do  it ?  " 

* '  Because  they  can  import  steel  much  cheaper  than  they  can 
buy  it  here,  provided  they  avoid  the  duty.  I  always  wondered  at 
the  difference  in  the  boxes  and  the  metal.  Now  I  understand  it 
all." 

' '  And  do  you  think  that  my  dear  papa  knows  about  it  ?  " 

"  No,  I  do  not.  Firstly,  Mr.  Fox  is  too  good  a  citizen  to  desire 
to  cheat  the  government  out  of  its  dues  ;  and,  secondly,  if  he  were 
a  party  to  the  fraud  he  would  surely  not  have  set  a  spy  upon  his 
own  actions." 

"  But  who,  then,  should  have  ventured  to  run  so  great  a  risk  ?" 

"Who  but  Mr.  Wood  ?  Of  course  he  isn't  alone,  for  he  needs 
accomplices  in  such  a  transaction.  To  make  sure  I  went  to  the 
stable  and  asked  the  driver  divers  questions,  taking  good  care  to 
make  them  perfectly  innocent.  In  spite  of  my  careless  mien  the 
fellow  got  confused,  contradicted  himself  several  times,  finally  get 
ting  vexed  and  rude.  If  a  doubt  had  existed  in  my  mind  before, 
this  man's  conduct  would  at  once  have  destroyed  it." 


112  DOLORES. 

"  I  wonder  Mr.  Wood  should  have  acted  so  carelessly  as  to  let 
the  track  in  the  snow  betray  his  actions." 

"  I  do  not,  Dolores.  I  saw  there  was  a  consignment  of  metal 
from  the  depot,  too,  and  he  most  likely  thought  that  he  could  con 
ceal  his  smuggled  boxes  best  by  mixing  them  with  the  others.  Be 
sides,  it  snowed  so  heavily  last  evening  that  it  had  tho  appearance 
of  continuing  all  night,  in  which  case  the  tracks  would  have  been 
obliterated." 

"That  is  true,  Charlie  ;  the  weather  has  favored  us  greatly. 
But  what  do  you  intend  doing  next  Will  you  communicate  with 
papa  at  once  ? " 

Charles  shook  his  head. 

"  Mr.  Fox  wants  positive  proof,  and  to  give  that  we  must  catch 
the  evil-doers  in  the  act.  This  we  cannot  do. 

"  Why  not,  Charlie  ?  Will  they  not  sooner  or  later  repeat  their 
action  ?  " 

"They  will,   undoubtedly;  but  to  prove  smuggling  we  must 
show  the  connection  with  a  foreign  vessel  or  at  least  a  vessel  from 
a  foreign  port.     Can  we  do  this,  Dol  ?  " 
Dolores  started. 

"  Our  oath  ! "  she  said,  with  a  tone  of  awe. 

"There  lies  the  difficulty,"  Charles  resumed.  "  We  can  hardly 
convince  Mr.  Fox  without  violating  our  plighted  oath,  and  yet  we 
cannot  perjure  ourselves." 

"  Of  course  not,"  Dolores  earnestly  assented. 

"  Therefore  it  will  be  better  if  we  say  nothing  of  our  discover 
ies  at  present,  but  continue  to  watch  and  do  our  best  to  counteract 
any  pernicious  influence  of  the  superintendent.  I  am  sure  now  he 
is  cheating  Mr.  Fox  out  of  his  profits,  for  a  man  who  goes  so  far 
will  not  hesitate  to  dive  to  the  bottom  of  iniquity." 

On  this  they  finally  resolved,  and  after  some  further  delibera 
tion  on  the  subject  Charles  withdrew. 

A  start  was  made,  a  point  gained,  and  our  young  friend  had  no 
doubt  that  he  would  now  be  able  not  only  to  discover  Mr.  Wood's 
other  machinations,  but  also  to  foil  his  evil  intentions  and  save  Mr. 
Fox  from  their  pernicious  consequences.  If  that  fatal  oath  had  not 
been  made  his  task  would  have  been  much  more  simple,  but  even 
as  it  was  he  felt  confident  of  final  success. 


DOLORES.  113 

Before  his  discovery  the  examination  of  the  books  had  been 
fruitless, — now  they  promised  rich  results.  Resuming  his  visits  at 
the  office,  Charles  devoted  himself  to  their  perusal  with  renewed 
zeal  and  soon  learned  how  Mr.  Wood  had  been  able  to  conceal  his 
operations  so  long  and  successfully.  According  to  the  books  Mr. 
Wood  used  nothing  but  American  steel,  charging  the  factory  with 
the  whole  amount  and  crediting  certain  firms  with  the  same.  If 
Mr.  Fox  had  asked  for  the  receipts  of  those  parties  the  thing  might 
have  been  very  different ;  but  as  his  easy  good  nature  had  always 
prevented  such  thorough  measures,  the  superintendent  found  no 
difficulty  in  making  the  whole  thing  very  plausible  in  the  books 
which  moreover  captivated  the  examiner  by  their  extreme  neatness. 

Charles  readily  understood  the  motive  of  Mr.  Wood's  smuggling 
operations  ;  but  why  was  the  inferior  metal  thus  acquired  worked 
up  promiscuously  with  better  material  ?  This  considerably  puzzled 
our  young  friend  who  was  enough  of  a  business  man  to  see  that,  by 
classing  fche  goods  according  to  their  value,  the  superintendent 
could  have  secured  a  better  market  and  also  more  remunerative 
prices.  His  management  could  only  have  the  tendency  to  create 
discontent  amongst  the  purchasers  and  finally  drive  them  to  another 
market.  What  could  it  mean  ?  Was  it  barely  possible  that  Mr. 
Wood  had  not  only  the  desire  of  enriching  himself,  but  also  the 
more  damnable  one  of  ruining  his  employer,  after  he  had  reached 
his  own  purpose  ?  It  must  be  so,  for  Charles  could  conceive  no 
other  motive  and  holding  fast  this  idea,  until  something  better 
would  present  itself,  he  concluded  to  act  upon  it. 

By  this  time,  spring  had  begun  to  send  its  forerunners  in  the 
shape  of  showers  and  storms  and  glimpses  of  sunshine  and  the  un 
erring  cry  of  birds  of  migration  high  above  in  the  air.  The  weather 
began  to  become  more  and  more  settled  but  even  before  the  country 
was  at  all  inviting  the  family  at  the  mansion,  to  everybody's  sur 
prise,  made  its  appearance.  Mrs.  Fox  was  the  instigator  of  this 
unexpected  movement  which  had  been  heartily  endorsed  by  her 
husband,  though  he  could  not  help  wondering  himself  at  the  change 
of  his  wife's  notions.  Formerly  she  had  derided  the  pleasures  of 
the  country  and  only  consented  to  a  residence  in  it,  because  her 
fashionable  friends  all  indulged  in  it,  and  because  the  dullness  of 
the  city  during  the  summer  months  was  even  more  intolerable  than 


114  DOLORES. 

that  of  the  country.  She  had  always  come  as  late  and  gone  as 
early  as  possible  ;  but  now  it  seemed  as  if  the  exception  of  the  fall 
was  to  become  the  rule  for  the  future.  She  declared  herself  to  be 
delighted  with  the  beauties  of  nature,  and  Mr.  Fox  was  glad  enough 
to  perceive  the  change  ;  for  it  was  not  the  only  change  visible  in 
his  wife.  Her  conduct  to  Dolores,  who,  of  course,  returned  to  the 
mansion  on  the  arrival  of  the  family,  was  all  Mr.  Fox  could  desire  ; 
for  though  she  would  not  condescend  to  bestow  any  marks  of  affec 
tion  or  regard  upon  the  girl,  sh^  abstained  on  the  other  hand  from 
those  manifestations  of  disgust  or  enmity  which  had  made  Dolores 
so  miserable. 

As  we  have  said,  Mr.  Fox  was  pleased  with  the  change  in  his 
wife's  conduct  without  caring  to  know  the  source.  If  he  had 
known  it  would  he  have  been  as  indifferent?  Hardly,  for  the 
faithless  woman  had  wronged  her  husband  in  a  point  where  men 
are  very  sensitive  and  ready  to  avenge  their  sullied  honor,  even  if 
not  wounded  in  their  heart.  Easy  and  indulging  as  Mr.  Fox  was, 
it  is  more  than  likely  that  the  guilt  of  his  wife  would  have  roused 
the  lion  in  his  nature  and  brought  up  a  tempest  fearful  in  propor 
tion  to  its  rareness. 

And  she  who  has  forgotten  the  vow  of  love  and  fidelity  which 
once  she  plighted  to  the  man  of  her  choice  !  how  does  she  feel  ? 
How  does  she  manage  to  sooth  and  quiet  the  monitor  who  persists 
in  telling  her  that  she  is  emptying  the  cup  of  sinful  lust  ?  how  does 
she  feel  ?  She  does  not  care  to  sift  her  feelings  ;  for  on  the  surface 
she  finds  a  happiness  that  suffices  hen  If  anything  redeems  her 
lost  condition  and  mitigates  the  severity  of  our  judgment,  it  is  the 
fact  that  she  really  loves  the  man  who  has  accomplished  her  ruin. 
He  has  devoted  a  life  to  her  ;  he  has  with  tenacious  perseverance 
persued  a  plan,  the  only  plan  of  his  existence,  and  on  it  has  wasted 
all  his  strength  and  energy  and  feeling.  Such  a  love  is  tempting. 
What  does  it  matter,  if  it  is  coupled  with  a  fierce  hatred  to  her 
husband  and  the  burning  wish  to  accomplish  his  ruin  ?  What  is 
that  husband  to  her?  Her  vivacity,  her  restlessness,  her  deep 
emotions  and  passionate  feelings  are  foreign  to  the  ease  and  non 
chalance  of  his  character.  He  might  have  answered  for  a  slave  ; 
but  slave  he  would  not  be  and  else  he  could  not.  So  when  the 
tempter  stepped  up  to  her  and  with  a  sweet  and  insinuating  voice 


DOLORES.  115 

spoke  fiery  words  which  struck  a  kindred  string  and  pleaded  the 
cause  of  his  mad  passion  with  a  fervor  that  was  congenial  to  her 
ardent  nature,  she  struggled  but  a  moment,  as  we  have  seen,  and 
readily  yielded  to  the  glittering  enticement. 

She  had  sinned,  and  by  adhering  to  her  lover  continued  to  sin  ; 
but,  in  spite  of  it,  her  love,  however  wrong,  threw  those  softening 
influences  around  her  which  that  passion  always  exercises  over 
woman.  She  seemed  to  grow  younger -and  more  beautiful,  though 
that  beauty  had  even  before  been  remarkable,  as  we  have  seen. 

The  servants  were,  like  Dolores,  benefitted  by  their  mistress' 
change.  She  was  less  fretful  and  more  easily  pleased.  Lucy,  with 
her  quiet  ways  and  peaceful  mind  was  least  affected  by  the  change; 
but  Richard,  instead  of  being  benefitted,  was  actually  injured  by 
his  mother's  increased  indulgence.  Aping  the  dandies  of  the  city 
who  tolerated  and  flattered  him  for  the  sake  of  his  money,  he  fell 
into  all  kinds  of  absurd  extravagances  which  secured  for  him  the 
ridicule  of  the  neighborhood  and  the  dislike  of  the  household,  his 
mother  forming  the  only  exception. 

Towards  Mr.  Fox  his  wife  showed  a  certain  reserve  approaching 
shyness  ;  but  this  diffidence  so  charming  in  a  woman  when  the  re 
sult  of  bashful  coyness  and  timid  modesty  and  the  first  dawning 
consciousness  of  conjugal  love,  had  no  attraction  for  the  husband, 
when  it  was  the  result  of  the  admonitions  of  a  guilty  conscience. 
Mr.  Fox  was  glad  enough  to  be  left  alone  and  nothing  indeed  was 
further  from  his  mind  than  the  desire  to  resume  more  intimate  rela 
tions  to  a  wife  whom  he  had  once  loved  and  cherished,  but  who, 
by  her  waywardness  and  her  caprices,  had  long  ago  succeeded  in 
stiffling  the  emotions  which  had  filled  his  heart. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

TWO    YEARS    LATER. 

Time  flies  fast  ;  but  the  narrator  can  accelerate  its  motion.  He 
need  but  raise  his  wand  and  months  fly  faster  than  seconds  ;  sum 
mer  changes  to  winter  and  winter  back  to  summer.  He  lets  the 


116  DOLORES. 

infant  be  born  and  by  a  wink  mature  to  maidenhood  or  adolescence; 
he  plants  the  acorn  and  by  his  magic  power  causes  the  mighty  tree 
to  shoot  up  in  a  moment  and  spread  its  branches  amongst  the 
clouds,  to  protect  the  warbling  birds  or  the  weary  wanderer  in  its 
shadow. 

We  call  at  the  factory  two  years  after  the  first  visit  of  Dolores. 
We  enter  the  office  and  sec  Mr.  Wood  in  a  perfect  tempest  of  rage. 
He  strides  up  aud  down  with  a  vehemence  that  knows  no  bounds, 
and  it  is  doubtful  whether  his  words  are  uttered  in  soliloquy  or  ad 
dressed  to  George,  the  only  other  occupant  of  the  room.  George 
shrugs  his  shoulders  repeatedly  ;  but  returns  no  answer  which 
silence  creates  the  doubt  alluded  to.  But  enough  of  reflections ; 
drawing  up  the  curtain  for  the  second  act  we  retreat  behind  the 
scenes  and  let  the  persons  of  the  drama  speak  for  themselves. 

"Confound  them  all!"  Mr.  Wood  exclaimed,  showing  a  far 
greater  sense  of  propriety  in  this  amaible  utterance  than  in  some  of 
his  previous  expressions  ;  "confound  them  all,  1  say  !  This  is  more 
than  I  can  bear,  either  they  or  I  !  I  must  at  once  press  matters  to 
a  decision." 

"But  by  too  great  a  haste  you  may  spoil  what  hasn't  been 
spoiled  yet,"  George  now  interposed. 

"  Too  great  a  haste  !  yes,  indeed  !  you  have  been  counseling 
tardiness  all  the  time  and  tardiness  has  spoiled  everything." 

"  But  what  is  lost,  Wood  ?  I  really  think  that  you  see  things 
in  too  gloomy  a  light." 

"  What  is  lost  ?"  the  irritated  man  repeated,  with  that  snappish 
tenacity  so  peculiar  to  persons  in  his  mood,  "ask  me  rather  what 
is  not  lost  ?  Have  we  made  any  headway  these  eighteen  months  ?" 

"Not  much,  to  be  sure;  but  remaining  stationary  and  losing 
ground  are  two  different  things." 

"I  think  differently.  There  is  nothing  stationary  in  this  world, 
and  not  to  progress  is  to  slide  back.  Have  we  not  been  obliged  to 
give  up  our  new  customers  and  fall  back  upon  the  old  ones?" 

"Why  yest,  but—" 

"  Have  we  not  in  that  way  lost  all  the  gain  accruing  from  our 
clever  operations  ?  " 

"  Of  course  ;  but  then—" 


DOLORES.  117 

' '  Have  we  not  been  obliged  to  smuggle  a  better  quality  of  steel 
in  order  to  be  at  all  able  to  continue  that  feature  so  indispensible  to 
the  success  of  our  plans  ?  " 

"  That  is  all  very  true  ;  but  we  smuggle  still  in  undisturbed  se 
curity,  and  the  profit  we  derive  from  it  is  not  to  be  despised." 

Wood  stopped  short ;  he  shook  his  head  with  an  angry  zest  and 
said  : 

"  George,  you  are  like  all  the  others,  losing  sight  of  the  whole 
over  the  parts.  You  may  be  a  good  private,  but  you  will  never  be 
a  general.  Do  you  think  I  care  for  a  few  paltry  pennies  ?  Do  you 
think  I  accumulate  lucre  for  the  sake  of  lucre  ?  I  thought  you 
knew  me  better,  and  surely  you  ought,  for  I  revealed  my  inmost 
thoughts  to  you  so  often.  If  I  cannot  satiate  the  vengeance  for 
which  I  have  worked  and  planned  through  many  weary  years,  I 
don't  care  that  much  for  all  the  treasures  in  the  world." 

Mr.  Wood  did  not  refer  to  that  other  and  even  stronger  passion 
of  his  ;  indeed,  he  had  never  made  George  a  confidant  of  it. 

."  But  your  chance  for  that  is  as  good  as  ever,  Richard.  I  see 
nothing  to  spoil  the  game." 

"  I  do.     Have  you  forgotten  Charlie's  visit  to  the  cave  ?  " 

"  No,  but  he  has  faithfully  kept  his  oath  of  secrecy." 

"  He  need  not  keep  it  any  longer,  for  Captain  Butler,  you  re 
member,  bound  him  only  for  two  years,  thinking  that  he  would  be 
more  likely  to  remain  silent  during  that  period  than  a  more  lengthy 
and  indefinite  one.  One  more  week  and  the  young  man  will  be  free 
to  act—" 

"  Bat  do  you  think  he  will  venture  there  again  ?  " 

"  He  venture  ?  "  Why,  George,  you  sometimes  ask  childish 
questions.  You  surely  know  Charles  Fuchs  long  enough  to  be  con 
vinced  that  he  is  not  the  person  to  be  easily  scared." 

"  Still  he  knows  nothing  of  our  contraband  trade.  He  may  pay 
a  dozen  visits  to  the  cave  and  never  meet  our  friends." 

"  He  may  and  may  not.  I  surely  cannot  run  such  risks.  Be 
sides,  I  am  not  so  sure  about  his  ignorance  concerning  the  secrets  of 
the  cave." 

"  How  should  he  know  ?  His  short  visit  can  certainly  not  have 
given  him  a  clue.  Moreover,  Charles  has  changed  wonderfully 


118  DOLORES. 

lately  ;  he  lias  formed  a  strong  liking  for  you,  and  I  think  we  might 
without  much  risk  make  him  a  party  to  our  plans." 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  no  ! "  the  other  shouted,  with  a  frightened 
countenance. 

•'  Why,  what  is  the  matter,  Richard  ?"  George  inquired,  with 
much  wonderment  in  his  voice.  "I  do  think  you  are  getting  ner. 
vous." 

"  I  know  I  am.  This  continual  suspense  and  excitement  is  tell 
ing  on  me." 

"  But  what  makes  you  so  afraid  of  Charles  ?  " 

"  I  hardly  know  myself.  I  like  the  boy  and  yet  I  fear  him;  at 
least  I  wouldn't  for  the  world  make  him  a  party  to  our  plot." 

"  Well,  do  as  you  like,"  George  replied,  with  a  touch  of  cold 
ness  and  a  shrug  of  his  shoulder. 

"  I  cannot  stand  this  any  longer,"  Wood  continued,  without 
heeding  the  other's  remark.  "I'll  bring  matters  to  a  crisis,  and 
that,  too,  within  a  week.  Like  the  gambler  who  has  been  losing 
long  and  with  a  desperate  energy  stakes  his  all  upon  one  card  to 
win  or  perish,  I  shall  play  va  banqe" 

George  became  excited  by  infection. 

"  That  is  King  Richard  again,"  he  cried,  "  the  fearless  leader 
who  leads  through  peril  to  success.  Go  on,  my  friend,  George  puts 
his  fortune  on  your  card." 

But  Wood  had  already  cooled  down  again. 

"Don't  get  excited,  boy,"  he  said,  lifting  his  hand  toward  his 
comrade  in  a  calming  manner.  This  is  no  child's  play,  and  wants  a 
calm  deliberation.  Sit  down,  George,  and  let  us  talk  the  matter 
over." 

The  other  obeyed  his  injunction,  and  sitting  down  at  the  side  of 
Mr.  Wood,  who  had  himself  taken  a  chair,  looked  expectantly  into 
his  face. 

"  Has  Butler  not  been  heard  from  yet  ?  "  Wood  inquired. 

"  Not  to  my  knowledge.  Old  Peter  has  thus  far  failed  to  re 
port  any  signals." 

"  He  ought  to  be  here,  and  surely  will,  if  it  is  at  all  in  his 
power.  He  knows  as  well  as  me  that  the  secret  of  the  cave  will 
cease  to  be  a  secret  in  less  than  a  week." 

"  I  think  like  you  that  he  will  soon  be  here." 


DOLOKES.  119 

"  Well,  go  to  see  Peter  this  evening  and  warn  him  into  double 
vigilance.  Let  him  report  the  arrival  of  the  vessel  without  a  mo 
ment's  delay." 

"I  will,  sir." 

"  Very  well.  Now  listen  carefully.  Captain  Butler  is  not  aware 
of -my  intentions.  He  thinks  Mr.  Fox  has  knowledge  of  our  clan 
destine  connections.  Thus  far  neither  party  has  received  any  writ 
ings  from  the  other  concerning  these  transactions  ;  but  this  time  I 
shall  demand  a  receipt  from  Butler's  hand  for  the  payment  of  the 
cargo  of  steel  he  will  deliver." 

"  But  will  he  give  it?" 

"  I  think  so.  I  shall  pretend  that  my  employer  suspects  fraud, 
and  that  I  want  him  to  see  the  receipt  for  the  whole  sum." 

"  But  what  good  will  such  a  receipt  do  you?" 

"  Why,  George,  don't  you  think  it  will  make  the  commander  of 
the  revenue  cutter  start  when  he  lays  his  eyes  on  it  ?  " 

"  But  the  cutter  lies  at  P ,  a  long  ways  off." 

"  P is  not  out  of  the  world,  and  a  quick  messenger  can  take 

it  there  in  twelve  hours.     That  part  of  the  enterprise  I  thought  of 
putting  into  your  hands." 

"  Into  mine f "  the  other  asked,  with  a  look  of  surprise.  "I 
hardly  know  whether  I  should  fancy  the  idea  of  being  so  far  from 
the  scene  of  action." 

Wood  looked  at  him  with  a  keen,  searching  glance. 

"  Why  don't  you  say  at  once  that  you  don't  trust  me,  and  that 
you  expect  to  be  cheated  out  of  your  portion  of  the  earnings." 

"  It  isn't  that,"  George  replied,  slightly  embarrassed,  "  but  you 
would  not  be  here  on  my  return,  and  where  should  I  find  you  ?  " 

"  It  isn't  necessary  that  you  should  find  me,  George,"  Wood 
coldly  responded.  "Do  not  misunderstand  me  ;  you  shall  faith 
fully  receive  the  liberal  reward  your  assistance  merits,  and  that, 
too,  before  you  start ;  but  as  to  further  fellowship,  it  is  neither  de 
sirable  nor  wise.  I  like  you  well  enough,  George,  but  I  cannot  say 
that  I  like  the  idea  of  having  a  living,  speaking  monitor  about  me 
to  remind  me  of  a  transaction  which  it  is  to  our  interest  to  bury  in 
oblivion.  If  you  reflect  a  little,  my  lad,  you  must  confess  thaj:  sep 
aration  is  our  best  policy." 

George  now  returned  the  othei's  glance.     He  suspected  that 


120  DOLORES. 

there  was  another  reason  in  the  heart  of  his  accomplice  for  wishing 
a  separation,  and  this  want  of  sincerity  considerably  annoyed  him. 
A  certain  dark  thought  again  arose  in  the  depth  of  his  soul,  and 
wrhile  he  deliberated  with  the  superintendent  on  the  ruin  of  his 
principal  he  calculated  whether  by  the  betrayal  of  the  former  he 
could  not  induce  the  latter  to  double  his  gains.  To  obtain  this  end, 
however,  he  must  of  course  acquiesce  in  the  other's  arrangements 
without  further  contradiction  ;  so,  smoothing  his  countenance  into 
an  approving  smile,  he  said  : 

* c  May  be  you  are  right,  Richard .  indeed,  now  I  think  of  it, 
you  are  right,  though  at  first  I  didn't  fancy  being  thrown  away  like 
a  squeezed  lemon." 

Wood  laughed. 

11  What  an  absurd  simile.  If  you  had  compared  yourself  with 
a  soaked  sponge  you  would  have  been  more  correct." 

"  But  what  other  measures  do  you  propose,  Richard  ?" 

"  That  is  soon  told.     I  am  going  to  give  Butler  a  forged  check 

on  the  Phoenix  Bank  of  P ,  and  divide  with  you  the  profit  of 

the  'coup.'  It  isn't  more  than  fair  that  the  captain  should  at  last 
pay  the  penalty  for  the  violation  of  our  laws.  Don't  you  think 
BO?" 

The  two  worthies  laughed  at  this  joke.  It  is  so  easy  to  laugh  at 
the  expense  of  others. 

"  He  cannot  suspect  the  trick,"  Wood  continued,  "  and  to  make 
the  joke  more  capital  he  can  have  no  recourse  on  account  of  for 
gery." 

"  Hardly  !  "  George  struck  in.  "I  wager  that  he'll  keep  very 
mum  about  it." 

"  Mum  ?  No,  George,  he'll  swear  at  us  until  his  bile  is  all  ex 
hausted  and  the  devil  tired  of  his  invocations." 

4 '  No  doubt  of  that,  but  go  on.  I  am  decidedly  anxious  to  see 
your  fine  tactics  developed." 

"  I  am  nearly  done.  I  expect  considerable  remittances  shortly 
for  goods  delivered,  and  these  also  will  be  divided  and  go  a  good 
piece  toward  swelling  our  funds." 

"  And  the  money  you  hold  for  Mrs.  Fox  ?  " 

"  Will  be  faithfully  surrendered  into  her  hands.     It  wouldn't 


DOLORES.  121 

do,  George,  to  cheat  a  faithful  ally  out  of  her  dues.     Honesty 
among  thieves,  you  know." 

"  Why,  yes,  of  course,"  the  young  man  replied,  being  unable  to 
suppress  a  slight  blush  that  persisted  in  mantling  his  cheeks.  He 
was  determined  to  set  that  proverb  at  naught  and  at  the  same  time 
entertained  serious  doubts  regarding  the  truthfulness  of  the  other's 
statements.  But  then  he  didn't  care,  if  Wood  appropriated  that 
money,  as  he  was  at  the  very  moment  revolving  plans  in  his  mind 
whose  results  would  more  than  compensate  him  for  any  loss  he 
might  experience  at  the  hands  of  his  accomplice.  He  aimed  at 
nothing  less  than  the  destruction  of  his  comrade  and  that,  too,  with 
an  indifference  truly  diabolical.  Of  the  two  rogues  he  evidently 
was  the  blackest ;  for  while  the  superintendent  aimed  at  the  gratifi 
cation  of  the  powerful  passions  of  love  and  hatred,  his  younger  ac 
complice  merely  worked  for  the  satisfaction  of  the  meanest  of  all 
earthly  vices — miserly  greediness  and  heartless  avarice. 

'"  And  wre  must  really  part?"  he  added  with  a  hypocritical  sad- 
naes.  "I  shall  feel  lost,  for  hitherto  I  have  faithfully  looked  to 
you  for  guidance." 

"  I  presume  you  will  find  better  guides  and  safer  ones,"  Wood 
said  with  ironical  sincerity.  "Comfort  yourself  on  that  score.  And 
now  be  oif,  George,  and  notify  Peter,  so  that  we  will  at  once  be 
warned  of  Butlers  arrival." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

AN    ARRIVAL. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  a  stranger  walked  the  road 
leading  to  the  village.  He  had  a  foreign  air  and  a  foreign  looking 
carpet-bag  and,  we  need  therefore  not  wonder  that  he  stopped  every 
few  minutes  to  subject  the  different  houses  to  a  scrutinizing  glance. 
The  appearance  of  the  stranger  was  not  very  prepossessing.  His 
suit  was  rather  shabby,  but  this  circumstance  which  we  are  apt  to 
overlook  when  connected  with  a  pleasant  countenance  and  a  genial 
look,  was  in  his  instance  aggravated  by  a  very  uninviting  face. 


122  DOLORES. 

ISot  that  the  features  had  been  ugly — no  ;  their  expression  rather 
than  their  form  repelled  those  who,  in  passing  the  man,  looked  at 
him  with  natural  curiosity.  One  or  two,  overcoming  their  dislike 
and  judging  him  to  be  a  stranger  from  the  indecision  of  his  move 
ments,  stopped  and  kindly  asked  him  what  he  wanted  and  whether 
he  was  trying  to  find  somebody.  To  this  they  got  no  satisfactory 
reply,  however.  The  stranger,  after  a  few  words  of  answer,  mut 
tered  so  indistinctly  as  to  make  it  uncertain  whether  they  were 
English  or  not,  rudely  turned  from  the  would-be  guide  and  resum 
ing  his  indecisive  motions,  continued  his  walk  towards  the  village. 

Now,  when  he  passed  Mr.  Fuchs'  cottage,  it  happened  that  the 
mistress  of  the  house  occupied  her  wronted  seat  on  the  porch  of  the 
building.  She  happened  to  call  with  a  loud  voice  to  one  of  her 
sons  who  was  evidently  near,  though  not  in  sight,  and  her  words, 
spoken  in  German,  at  once  attracted  the  attention  of  the  stranger. 
His  face  lost  its  sullenness  and  assumed  a  portion  of  that  eager 
spirit  peculiar  to  horses,  when,  after  a  long  fatiguing  journey,  they 
approach  the  crib  and  smell  the  oats.  Approaching  the  gate  that 
led  into  the  garden  he  called  the  attention  of  the  woman  to  his  per 
son  by  saying  in  a  voice  which  was  sharp  and  snappish  : 

"Sie  sind  deutsch,  Madame,  nicht  wahr  ?" 

Mrs.  Fuchs  looked  at  him  attentively. 

"  Jawohl,  mein  Herr,  warum?" 

"  Warum  ?"  the  stranger  said  snappishly,  continuing  of  course 
in  German,  which,  for  the  benefit  of  the  reader,  I  shall,  however, 
translate  into  English.  "Why?  That  is  self  evident;  I  am  a 
German,  seek  a  German,  and  wish  ^o  find  him,  for  I  am  tired, 
hungry  and  thirsty." 

Mrs.  Fuchs  looked  at  him  with  a  mien,  showing  plainly  that 
she  did  by  no  means  appreciate  the  fellow's  plainness  and  shortness. 
Still,  there  is  something  gratifying  in  meeting  a  countryman,  even 
though  he  be  a  boor,  and  she  replied  more  kindly  than  his  manner 
warranted : 

"  Ursache  genug  !  Reason  enough,  to  be  sure.  It  is  but  Chris 
tian  duty  to  assist  in  ending  so  much  distress.  \Vill  you  not  come 
in  and  eat  and  drink  and  rest  and  then  continue  your  search  in 
which  I  shall,  of  course,  assist  you,  if  I  am  able." 

The  lady's  kindness  still  more  reduced  the  stranger's  sourness. 


DOLORES.  123 

He  signified  his  readiness  to  accept  the  invitation,  and  passing 
through  the  gate,  assumed  a  comfortable  position  on  the  porch  with 
a  readiness  and  nonchalance  that  showed  at  once  the  great  care  this 
individual  took  of  No.  1  ;  i.  e.  :  himself. 

"  So,  madam,"  he  said,  depositing  his  long  and  slender  carpet 
bag,  "I  am  seated,  Gott  sei  dank,  and  if  you  will  procure  some 
eatables  I  shall  not  fail  to  do  them  justice.  I  have  had  nothing 
since  this  morning  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  my  breakfast  was  merely 
the  shadow  of  one." 

Good-natured  Mrs.  Fuchs  forgot  over  the  fellow's  hunger  the 
cynical  way  in  which  he  informed  her  ;  or  perhaps  she  excused  him 
on  account  of  the  circumstances  in  which  she  found  him.  She 
probably  knew  that  the  rough  contact  with  the  world  is  not  exactly 
calculated  to  make  us  either  smooth  of  speech  or  tender  of  touch, 
and  that,  like  the  butterfly,  we  lose  the  delicate  bloom  on  our 
wings  when  an  uncouth  hand  intercepts  our  merry  flight  amongst 
flowers  and  their  perfumes. 

"  Wait  a  moment,"  she  said,  and,  disappearing  in  the  house, 
soon  returned  with  some  of  the  substantial  blessings  of  life.  The 
bread  and  butter  and  cheese  were  accompanied  by  a  glass  or  two  of 
wine,  though  not  of  that  prime  kind  which  Mr.  Fox  had  tasted  on 
the  visit  we  witnessed.  No,  indeed  ;  Mrs.  Fuchs  knew  better.  She 
believed  in  the  adage  which  forbids  us  to  cast  pearls  before  certain 
animals  and  understood  the  great  art  to  confine  charity  within  the 
proper  limits. 

The  stranger,  however,  was  a  judge.  He  ate  and  drank  and 
smacked  his  lips. 

"  Nichtubel!  not  so  bad  ;  though  I  have  drunk  better  growth 
on  the  banks  of  father  Rhine." 

"  So  you  hail  from  the  Rhine?"  Mrs.  Fuchs  inquired  with  in 
creased  interest,  her  own  cradle  having  been  rocked  to  the  melodies 
in  vogue  in  that  favored  country. 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  he  said  sharply,  "  and  a  fool's  errant  it  was  that 
took  me  away  from  there." 

"Would  you  deem  it  rude  if  I  asked  you  its  nature  ?" 

' '  No,  I  wouldn't.  Woman  are  curious,  that  is  an  old  truth  and 
can't  surprise  a  man  of  my  experience." 

"  Well,  sir?"  she  suggested,  overlooking  his  freedom. 


124  DOLORES. 

"Well,  madame,  I  simply  went  to  America  in  quest  of  for 
tune." 

' '  W  hy ,  I  suppose  everybody  does  that  more  or  less." 

"  Everybody  is  more  or  less  a  fool.  I  haven't  found  my  for 
tune  yet,  though  I  have  been  six  months  in  this  abominable  country  ; 
yes,  what's  worse,  I  haven't  found  my  brother." 

"  Your  brother  f    So  you  have  relations  in  America." 

*•  Yes,  madam,  they  are  so  fortunate." 

"  And  you  expect  to  find  your  brother  here  ?  You  will  hardly 
succeed,  for  we  are  the  only  German  family  in  the  place." 

"Hold  der  kukuk !  the  deuce  take  it.  This  was  my  last  trump 
and  if  it  fails,  I  may  as  well  give  up  the  game.  Isn't  this  Fox- 
ville  ?" 

"  That  is  the  name  of  the  place." 

"And  there  is  nobody  by  the  name  of  Fuchs  living  here?" 

"  Fuchs  ?  Why,  who  said  there  wasn't.  You  said  you  wanted 
to  find—" 

'*  My  worthy  brother,  Conrad  Fuchs,  the  senior  of  the  family. 
If  you  know  anything  about  that  person  and  will  communicate  your 
knowledge  to  me,  you  will  oblige  Jacob  Fuchs,  his  younger 
brother." 

Mrs.  Fuchs  was  astonished.  She  was  more  than  that,  she  was 
overpowered.  The  ties  of  relationship  are  closer  in  Germany  than 
in  any  other  country,  and  even  the  cousin  in  the  tenth  degree  con 
tinues  to  be  counted  amongst  the  kindred.  This  was  her  husband's 
own  brother  !  at  least  he  said  so  and  in  the  simplicity  of  her  heart 
she  never  thought  of  doubting  his  statement.  She  clasped  her 
hands  in  astonishment  and,  taking  the  hand  of  the  stranger  into 
hers,  she  embraced  and  kissed  him,  totally  forgetting  his  rough 
and  uncouth  ways  and  by  divers  exclamations  endeavoring  to  con 
voke  the  rest  of  the  family. 

"  Why  is  it  possible  ?"  she  cried  ;  "  my  husband's  own  brother  ! 
his  only  brother  Jacob,  if  I  have  been  rightly  informed,  my  good, 
dear  brother-in-law  !  Oh  !  how  Conrad  will  rejoice  !  Of  this  he 
never  dreamed,  to  be  sure.  Husband  Conrad !  Charles  !  Henry ! 
Why  don't  you  come  ?  Your  Uncle  Jacob  is  here  !  Your  Uncle 
Jacob  in  his  own  self  same  person  !" 

Now  in  her  zeal  the  good  dame  forgot  that  her  husband  and  the 


DOLORES.  125 

boys  were  at  the  factory  at  that  moment,  or  at  least  ought  to  have 
been  there,  though  Master  Henry  wasn't,  for  obedient  to  his 
mother's  call,  he  soon  afterwards  emerged  from  the  house.  This 
didn't  at  all  strike  her  as  odd ;  on  the  contrary  she  wondered  at 
the  absence  of  the  others,  inquiring  for  the  reason.  Only  when 
Henry  replied  that  they  were  probably  at  the  factory  she  remem 
bered  the  connecting  circumstances,  hinting  to  the  lad  that  it 
wouldn't  be  at  all  amiss  for  him  to  be  there  also.  But  this  was  not 
the  day  to  scold,  and  telling  Henry  that  he  saw  his  uncle  before 
him  and  vice  versa,  she  begged  her  honored  guest  to  excuse  her  a 
few  moments,  in  order  to  prepare  for  the  reception  of  so  worthy  a 
person.  Jacob  Fuchs  did  excuse  her,  enjoying  the  bread,  butter 
and  cheese  like  one  famished,  setting  down  the  inferior  quality  of 
the  wine  on  account  of  the  ignorance  of  his  claims. 

While  eating  and  drinking  he  eyed  and  addressed  his  young 
nephew,  who,  in  his  turn,  showed  by  his  supicious,  scornful  glances 
that  he  was  far  from  sharing  his  mother's  enthusiasm.  But  Jacob 
wasn't  easily  disconcerted. 

"Heinrich,  my  lad,"  he  said  coolly,  after  finishing  his  first 
bottle,  "You  would  greatly  oblige  me  by  getting  this  exchanged. 
Just  tell  your  mother  that  I  prefer  Deidesheim  Trammer  to  all 
other  kinds,  and  if  she  should  happen  to  keep  that  sort — 

Henry  obeyed  with  a  bad  grace,  but  returning  carried  a  flask 
bearing  the  brand  mentioned.  Uncle  Jacob  was  pleased,  he  was 
considerably  softened  and  with  every  new  glass  seemed  to  imbibe 
the  very  essence  of  the  milk  of  human  kindness. 

"  Why,  Henry,  my  boy,"  he  said,  "  this  meeting  is  as  pleasant 
as  it  is  unexpected.  After  wandering  six  months  through  this  hos 
pital  wilderness  of  the  United  States,  I  meet  at  last  the  brother 
whom  I  intended  to  surprise  and  to  make  rich  and  independent." 

Henry  began  to  listen.  Rich  and  independant.  This  shabby 
uncle  that  was  so  hungry  and  thirsty  like  a  beggar,  to  make  his 
father  rich  and  independent.  Yes  indeed,  he,  Henry,  would  first 
see  and  then  believe  it ;  but  not  sooner.  His  uncle's  remark  there 
fore  sharpened  the  expression  of  scorn  around  his  mouth.  The 
stranger  saw  it. 

"  That  sounds  funny,  Henry,  doesn't  it  ?"  he  inquired  ;  "never 


126  DOLORES. 

mind  the  fun,  my  boy,  it  will  by  and  by  become  dead  earnest,  I 
assure  you.  You  seem  to  be  tolerably  well  fixed  here." 

Henry  stated  that  they  were  fixed  well  enough  for  everyday  as 
pirations. 

"A  fine  house?" 

-Oh,  yes." 

-  And  much  land  ?" 

"  Some  five  acres  around  the  building." 

-  And  other  sources  of  revenue  ?" 

Henry  felt  as  if  prudence  dictated  discretion  towards  a  com 
parative  stranger.  But  this  was  his  uncle  and  that  uncle  had 
boasted  of  making  his  relatives  rich.  Indeed  Henry  felt  much  dis 
posed  to  exaggerate  his  father's  means  to  impress  this  new  uncle 
of  such  shabby  looks  and  high  pretentions.  So  he  asserted  that  his 
father  had  ever  so  much  stock  in  banks  and  other  papers  from 
which  he  derived  a  splendid  revenue. 

The  stranger  listened  attentively.  These  qualifications  of  a 
brother  seemed  very  acceptable,  but  Henry  thought  his  display 
made  hardly  the  effect  which  he  had  expected. 

''Very  well,  Henry,"  the  new  comer  said,  "very  well  indeed  ; 
but  what  has  been  the  result  of  it  ?  What  is  your  father  doing  ?" 

-  Working  in  Mr.  Fox's  factory,  as  foreman  though." 

At  the  word  Fox  the  stranger  started,  but  collecting  himself  he 
said : 

-Foreman  indeed.  And  your  brother — didn't  you  say  you 
had  another  brother?" 

-  I  did,  sir.     He  is  working  in  the  factory  as  volunteer  to  learn 
the  trade." 

-Volunteer!  Just  a  little  gilding  to  smooth  the  rough  name. 
I  think  he  will  soon  volunteer  at  pleasanter  work.  And  you,  my 
boy?" 

Henry  took  good  care  not  to  tell  him  that  he,  too,  would  have 
been  at  the  factory  if  his  indomitable  penchant  to  idleness  had  not 
induced  him  to  make  a  "  blue  ' '  Monday,  which  practice  with  him 
often  extended  over  the  whole  week.  Henrj)  had  not  yet  resolved 
upon  an  answer  when  his  uncle  saved  him  the  trouble  by  saying  : 

-Never  mind,  Henry,  what  you  are  doing.  I  will  give  you  a 
chance  of  doing  better.  I  am  not  joking,  lad,  but  in  sober  earnest. 


DOLOKES.  127 

You  seem  to  be  a  clever,  sensible  boy  and  I  have  no  doubt  we 
shall  get  along  swimmingly  together.  Keach  me  your  hand.  What 
do  you  think  ?  Are  you  willing  to  form  a  treaty  of  offense  and 
defense  with  an  uncle  that  can  soon  make  you  steinreich  ;  i.  e.  : 
possessing  more  gold  than  you  now  have  stones  on  your  premises?" 

Henry  was  clever,  but  he  was  also  credulous  like  most  persons 
who  dislike  labor  and  look  for  unexpected  turn-ups  and  sudden 
chances  to  take  the  place  of  industry  and  perseverence.  His  uncle 
might  possibly  be  more  than  an  idle  boaster,  and  in  such  a  case 
would  it  not  be  very  profitable  to  worm  himself  into  his  good  graces 
before  the  rest  of  the  family  had  a  chance  ?  If  such  a  conduct 
should  not  result  in  great  profit,  it  could  hardly  do  much  harm  and 
the  youth  instantly  resolved  to  assume  a  different  mien  towards 
this  Croesus  in  a  beggar's  garb.  So  he  laid  his  hand  into  his 
uncle's  extended  palm  with  a  good  enough  grace  and  signified  his 
readiness  to  tie  with  him  the  knot  of  firm  friendship  and  mutual 
good  will.  Indeed  this  union  had  nothing  strange  about  it.  If  the 
younger  partner  was  as  yet  lacking  the  callous  skin,  the  brazen 
face  and  the  ready  wit  of  the  vagrant,  by  means  of  which  he  made 
a  living,  the  younger  showed  an  aptness  which  promised  these 
qualities  in  rich  profusion,  and  a  family  resemblance  between  the 
pair  was  unmistakable.  They  had  no  further  chance  to  advance 
their  intimacy  just  then,  for  Mrs.  Fuchs  appearing  at  the  door 
begged  her  guest  to  enter  and  retire  to  the  room  she  had  hastily 
prepared  for  him.  He  would  find  a  bath  prepared,  she  said,  and 
plenty  of  Conrad's  clothes  in  the  closet,  in  case  he  wanted  to  re 
plenish  his  wardrobe.  She  hoped  he  would  enjoy  the  bath  and 
feel  refreshed  by  it.  Supper  would  be  ready  in  a  couple  of  hours 
and  the  rest  of  the  family  home  by  that  time,  though  she  wouldn't 
wait  that  long,  but  send  Henry  to  the  factory  without  delay,  in 
order  to  take  to  her  husband  and  Charles  the  glad  tidings. 

Uncle  Jacob  submitted  to  her  directions  with  the  grace  of  a 
man  that  has  learned  to  weather  the  storms  of  the  world.  Taking 
his  carpet-bag  he  suffered  himself  to  be  shown  to  his  room,  while 
Henry  betook  himself  to  the  factory  to  inform  his  father  and 
brother.  He  showed  no  haste,  however,  but  walking  slowly  pon 
dered  on  this  unexpected  event,  on  his  uncle's  mysterious  hints  and 
their  possible  consequences.  He  did  not  exactly  know  how  to  take 


128  DOLORES. 

his  amiable  relation,  but  he  was  ready  enough  to  benefit  by  his  as 
sistance,  and  before  reaching  the  factory  he  had  fully  resolved  to 
have  a  chance  at  the  fat  things  in  prospect  and  not  allow  the  others 
to  step  in  before  him,  as  they  were  wont  to  do. 

Mr.  Fuchs  and  Charles  were  busily  engaged  in  calculating 
something  lying  on  their  workbench,  their  backs  were  turned  to 
wards  the  messenger  and  both  were  considerably  startled  when 
Henry  with  intentional  abruptness  cried  out  to  them  : 

"Father,  mother  wants  you  at  home.  Uncle  Jacob  from  Ger 
many  has  come." 

"Who  has  come,  Henry?"  Mr.  Fuchs  asked,  with  a  surprise 
bordering  on  bewilderment. 

"  He  has  been  in  the  cellar,  father,"  Charles  suggested  with  an 
ironical  smile,  "  he  has  paid  a  visit  to  the  Rhine  wine  and  seen 
vissions  of  home." 

A  cold,  hateful  gleam  from  Henry's  eye  resented  the  irony. 

"  You  are  right,  I  have  been  in  the  cellar,"  he  replied,  "I  have 
also  fetched  up  wine,  but  not  for  myself ;  I  tell  you  again,  Uncle 
Jacob  has  come  and  mother  wants  you  to  come  home." 

Mr.  Fuchs  shook  his  head.  This  seemed  very  incredible  to  him 
for  reasons  of  his  own.  Turning  to  Charles  he  said  : 

"  What  can  this  mean  ?  I  have  not  seen  nor  corresponded  with 
my  brother  for  more  than  twenty  years  ;  could  it  be  really  pos 
sible— 

"  We  can  easily  find  out,  father.  Somebody  must  have  come 
and  I  suppose  we  may  as  well  go  home  to  see.  Henry  run  back: 
and  tell  mother  we  are  coming.  We  shall  just  wash  a  little  and 
see  to  things  before  we  start." 

Charlie's  word  was  law  to  Henry,  more  than  his  parents'.  True 
he  hated  his  brother  for  the  authority  he  exercised  over  him  ;  but 
still  he  obeyed,  therein  resembling  most  other  slavish  spirits  who 
smile  and  lick  spittle  in  their  betters'  face  and  make  a  fist  at  them 
within  their  pocket. 

So  on  Master  Henry  strolled.  His  relatives  also  prepared  to 
leave  the  factory,  pondering  on  the  news  that  had  been  brought  to 
them  and  wondering  what  it  could  mean. 

"It  cannot  be,  surely  cannot  be,"  Mr.  Fuches  continued  to 
reiterate. 


DOLORES.  129 

''  \Vhynot,  father?"  Charles  replied,  struck  by  something  pe 
culiar  in  his  father's  manner.  "  If  your  brother  is  living  he  surely 
might  have  come,  for  though  you  did  not  correspond  with  him,  he 
might  easily  have  got  our  address  from  other  friends  at  home.  Is 
there  anything  special  that  makes  you  think  he  wouldn't  come  ?" 

Mr.  Fuchs  was  the  prey  of  uneasiness  and  hesitancy.  For  a 
few  moments  he  remained  silent  ;  then,  however,  he  replied  : 

"Charlie,  you  are  more  of  a  man  and  friend  to  me  than  many 
another  boy  would  be.  I  can  trust  you  without  fear.  I  am  glad 
you  sent  Henry  back,  for  I  can  now  give  you  a  few  hints  concern 
ing  this  brother  of  mine  that  may  prove  useful  in  case  he  really 
should  have  come." 

By  this  time  the  two  had  left  the  factory  and  begun  to  walk 
toward  the  house  which  was  not  far  distant,  as  the  reader  will  rec 
ollect. 

"I  must  be  brief,  Charlie,"  Mr.  Fuchs  commenced  again. 
"  Jacob,  you  know,  was  my  only  brother.  I  hate  to  say  evil  things 
about  him,  but  the  truth  is  that  from  his  early  childhood  he  was 
the  black  sheep  of  the  family.  Often  when  I  see  Henry's  way 
wardness  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  he  bears  a  strong  resemblance 
to  his  uncle,  and  that  thought  makes  me  wretched.  I  cannot  tell 
you  Jacob's  misdemeanors  in  detail,  my  son,  but  shall  merely  state 
that  he  managed  by  his  intrigues  to  deprive  me  of  my  parents'  af 
fection  and  finally  to  drive  me  from  my  native  home  to  seek  another 
beyond  the  ocean.  The  wound  he  thus  struck  me  has  healed  long 
ago,  and  I  bear  my  brother  no  malice.  I  have  even  abstained  from 
mentioning  anything  about  it  to  your  mother,  for  nobody  likes  to 
blacken  his  own  kindred  ;  but  now  this  is  different,  of  course.  If 
your  uncle  has  really  come,  a  thing  I  am  strongly  inclined  to  doubt, 
my  duty  requires  me  to  give  you  a  hint  so  as  to  guard  against  the 
evil  consequences  of  any  intrigues  he  may  feel  disposed  to  spin.  If, 
on  the  other  hand,  he  has  reformed  and  comes  with  good  intentions, 
why  my  communications  will  be  buried  in  your  breast  and  not  pre 
vent  you  from  doing  justice  to  your  uncle.  Am  I  right,  Charlie  ?" 

"  Right  as  ever,  father.  I  thank  you  for  your  confidence,  and 
promise  to  treat  this  uncle  according  to  his  merits,  provided  some 
strange  vagrant  has  not  imposed  on  mother.  But  here  we  are,  and 
shall  soon  know  what  it  amounts  to.  There  is  mother  in  a  glow." 


130  DOLORES. 

He  was  right.  When  they  stepped  into  the  house  Mrs.  Fuchs 
met  them  with  a  countenance  so  fluttered  and  excited  that  she  did 
not  look  at  all  like  herself. 

"  Oh  !  there  you  are  at  last,"  she  cried.  I  thought  you  \vould 
never  come.  And  how  sober  you  look !  I  declare,  you  don't  seem 
to  be  glad  at  all.  Didn't  Henry  tell  you  that  brother  Jacob  has  ar 
rived  ?  " 

Mr.  Fuchs  was  going  to  explain  ;  but  Charles,  laying  his  hand 
on  his  father's  arm,  stopped  him,  saying  : 

"Leave  mother  to  me,  father  ;  you  had  better  go  up  at  once 
and  look  to  the  stranger.  We  must,  of  course,  identify  his  person 
before  we  can  proceed." 

Mr.  Fuchs  nodded,  and  ascending  the  stairway  left  his  wife  and 
son  to  themselves.  Charles  laid  his  hand  around  his  mother's  waist 
and  closeted  himself  with  her  in  a  neighboring  room.  When  a  few 
minutes  afterward  they  appeared  again  the  face  of  Mrs.  Fuchs  had 
much  sobered  down  ;  indeed,  she  looked  so  gloomy  that  Charles 
thought  it  necessary  to  caution  her. 

"  Cheer  up,  mother  dear,"  he  whispered  in  her  ear.  "  Remem 
ber  our  visitor  must  not  see  this  change,  nor  Henry  either.  The 
boy  is  not  considerate  enough  to  be  trusted.  Moreover,  all  may 
be  right,  you  know,  and  we  may  still  rejoice  at  our  kinsman's  com- 
ing." 

' '  You  are  my  good,  clever  boy,"  she  replied,  looking  tenderly 
into  his  noble  face,  "  and  I  shall  endeavor  to  control  myself.  But 
listen,  they  are  coming." 

She  was  right.  A  door  up  stairs  opened,  and  the  sharp,  snap 
pish  voice  of  the  stranger  penetrated,  in  all  its  modulations,  the 
house. 

"I  don't  like  his  voice,"  Charles  whispered  to  his  mother.  "  If 
his  person  isn't  more  agreeable — 

He  hadn't  time  to  finish,  for  already  the  stranger  was  descend 
ing  in  company  with  Mr.  Fuchs. 

"  Aye,  aye,'*  they  heard  him  say,  "  just  in  time,  brother  Con 
rad,  just  in  time  to  recruit  my  strength  and  purse.  I  tell  you  they 
are  both  considerably  exhausted." 

"  I  am  glad,  Jacob,  that  I  am  able  to  supply  all  your  wants." 

"  It's  really  uncle  Jacob,"  Charles  whispered  to  his  mother. 


DOLOKES.  131 

"  And  so  am  I,  brother,  so  am  I.  Not  that  I  want  much  from 
you,  or  long,  or  to  keep.  No,  indeed,  I  have  rather  come  to  be 
stow  and  not  to  take." 

"  Speak  plainly,  Jacob  ;  I  do  not  understand  you." 

"  Of  course  you  don't,  Conrad  ;  I  do  not  wish  you  should.  All 
in  due  season,  you  know,  in  due  season.  But  whom  have  we  here  ? 
Ah  !  my  good  sister  in-law,  the  Samaritan,  who  fed  the  stranger 
without  knowing  him,  though  the  wine  she  gave  me  was  a  beggarly 
wine.  And  this  young  chap  ?  Ah  !  I  recollect  ;  you  have  another 
boy,  Charles — isn't  that  your  name,  my  son  ?  " 

"Nephew,  uncle,  you  mean  to  say.  I  am  Charles  Fuchs,  and 
at  your  service." 

These  words,  and  yet  more  the  manner  of  uttering  them,  acted 
as  a  check  upon  uncle  Jacob;  at  least  as  far  as  Charles  was  con 
cerned.  The  young  man  practiced  that  effectual  means  of  holding 
at  the  distance,  overdrawn  politeness,  than  which  there  is  no  better 
remedy.  It  acts  like  so  many  weapons  thrust  against  the  rude  in 
vader,  repelling  his  advances  like  pointed  bayonets.  Uncle  Jacob 
could  not  break  down  Charles'  defences  either  then  or  afterwards, 
and  we  may  as  well  state  here  that  the  relation  between  uncle  and 
nephew  never  became  a  cordial  one.  Mr.  Fuchs  could  be  bullied, 
his  wife  persuaded  and  Henry  coaxed  ;  but  Charles  preserved  his 
distant  politeness,  or  rather  his  polite  distance,  and  proved  a  most 
effectual  barrier  to  uncle  Jacob's  forwardness.  That  gentleman  felt 
an  indistinct  aversion  to  the  young  man,  and  this  similarity  of  feel 
ing  soon  became  a  new  bond  of  fellowship  between  the  new  comer 
and  Henry,  so  that  they  were  mostly  in  each  other's  company. 

"  Thank  you,  sir,  thank  you  indeed,"  the  visitor  replied.  "Uncle 
Jacob  may  call  on  you  before  you  think  it,  though  he  is  not  the 
man  to  accept  services  without  compensation.  But  sister  Barbara, 
I  see  you  are  getting  impatient,  and  so  am  I.  If  you  will  lead  the 
way  to  the  dining-room  I  shall  show  you  without  delay  how  my 
little  lunch  of  before  has  prepared  my  stomach  for  a  good  supper." 
Mrs.  Fuchs  opened  a  door  and  the  company  entered  a  room, 
where  a  very  acceptable  meal  had  been  spread.  Uncle  Jacob  was 
the  first  one  to  sit  down  ;  he  had  already  pitched  deeply  into  the 
mysteries  of  half  a  dozen  dishes  before  the  others  had  taken  up  their 
knives  aud  forks. 


132  DOLORES. 

"  You  do  pretty  well  for  America,  madam,"  lie  said,  with  a  con 
descending  nod,  without  letting  his  speaking  interfere  with  his  eat 
ing,  "  and  if  a  glass  of  good  Rhine  wine  washes  the  victuals  down, 
they  pass  to  their  receptacle  in  a  pleasant  enough  manner.  Brother 
Conrad,  I  hope  you  have  provided  yourself  tolerably  well  with  this 
sort  of  wine.  You  recollect,  I  always  preferred  it  to  all  others." 

"Indeed  I  don't,  Jacob." 

"  Well,  take  my  word  for  it  then,  brother.  I'll  do  my  best  in 
helping  you  finish  your  supply,  and  then  it  shall  be  my  turn  to 
treat  and  you  must  assist  rue,  as  I  do  you  now.  Only  wait  until  I 
make  my  fortune — 

"  Oh  !  you  are  going  to  make  your  fortune,  uncle  ?  " 

"  Uncle  Jacob  was  annoyed,  and  for  a  moment  felt  inclined  to 
resent  Charles'  irony,  but  the  face  of  the  young  man  didn't  look  at 
all  inviting,  so  he  checked  his  vexation  and  said,  with  a  laugh  : 

"  Indeed  I  am,  though  you  seem  inclined  to  make  light  of  it. 
Just  wait  till  I  call  you  all  in  a  family  council,  for  then  you  will 
hear  astounding  disclosures.  But  now  wre  are  at  supper,  friends, 
and  it  is  my  principle  to  always  do  with  undivided  energy  what  I 
am  doing.  So  please,  sister,  to  reach  me  some  of  that  pudding, 
and,  brother,  if  it  wouldn't  be  too  much  trouble  to  replace  this 
empty  bottle  with  a  full  one — thank  you,  sir.  I  love  to  deal  with 
people  who  take  tender  hints  and  needn't  be  winked  at  with  fence 
posts." 

Any  one  seeing  uncle  Jacob  at  his  supper  wouldn't  entertain  the 
least  doubt  that  he  was  concentrating  all  his  energy  upon  that  work. 
If  his  other  undertakings  all  resembled  this  he  surely  was  a  push 
ing  fellow,  and  the  search  after  fortune  might  be  successful.  True, 
thus  far  he  had  evidently  failed,  judging  from  the  shabby  garments 
he  had  now  exchanged  for  better  ones  of  his  host  and  brother  ;  but 
the  best  pointer  may  sometimes  lose  the  scent,  and  there  is  hope  as 
long  as  there  is  life.  Uncle  Jacob's  life  was  very  tenacious,  for  if 
all  the  adventures  and  hardships  with  the  narration  of  which  he 
entertained  the  family  were  true,  he  surely  could  boast  of  having 
borne  what  nine- tenths  of  mankind  would  be  unable  to  endure. 

At  last  they  arose.  The  visitor's  capacity  of  receiving  and  stor 
ing  food  had  by  no  means  been  entirely  exhausted,  but  he  managed 
to  take  a  bottle  of  wine  and  a  plate  of  cake  into  the  parlor,  com- 


DOLOKES.  133 

forting  himself  with  the  thought  that  it  wasn't  much  further  from 
there  to  the  cellar  and  pantry  than  from  the  dining-room,  and  that 
at  all  events  this  labor  fell  to  the  lot  of  others. 

The  evenings  were  getting  long,  and  Mrs.  Fuchs  found  it  neces 
sary  to  light  the  iine  lamp  which  graced  the  mantlepiece  and  was 
only  used  for  extraordinary  occasions.  Its  light  cast  a  pleasant, 
comfortable  glow  over  the  room,  and  uncle  Jacob,  who  had  planted 
himself  in  the  most  comfortable  easy  chair  in  the  room,  had  good 
reason  to  congratulate  himself  on  having  found  a  home  which  con 
trasted  strangely  with  the  adventurous  life  he  had  lately  led,  and 
appeared  to  exercise  a  double  charm  in  prospect  of  the  coming  win 
ter,  He  had  lit  a  cigar,  without  in  the  least  ascertaining  Mrs. 
Fuchs'  sentiments  concerning  this  privilege,  and  the  pleasure  of 
puffing  off  rings  and  columns  of  smoke  had  for  a  while  even  over 
come  the  enjoyment  of  letting  his  tongue  run  and  keeping  his  audi 
tors  in  suspense  with  scenes  and  sketches  of  his  past  life,  which 
were  entirely  more  striking  than  probable. 

During  one  of  these  lulls  the  gate  of  the  garden  was  heard  to 
swing,  and  a  knock  at  the  door  betrayed  the  comitfg  of  another  vis 
itor. 

"  Why,  that  is  Dol,"  Charles  exclaimed,  springing  to  his  feet 
and  hastening  to  the  door.  "  She  was  to  come  this  evening,  but  we 
forgot  through  uncle  s  arrival." 

He  left  the  room,  and  a  minute  afterwards  reappeared  in  com 
pany  with  a  young  lady.  It  is  well  that  we  know  from  Charlie's 
words  who  stands  before  us,  or  we  would  surely  not  recognize  our 
former  friend.  This  young,  stately  creature  the  little  girl  of  old  ? 
In  this  splendidly  developed  form  we  do  not  recognize  the  angular 
points  of  a  wandering  minstrel  girl  who  by  her  painful  leanness 
awoke  the  pity  of  charitable  souls.  Charles  tells  us  it  is  his  friend 
Dolores,  and  we  surely  have  no  reason  to  doubt  his  word.  The 
black  massy  curls  are  there  as  of  old  ;  so  is  the  fiery  eye,  though 
moderated  and  subdued  by  gentle  sweetness  and  a  look  of  thought- 
fulness  which  speaks  of  mental  treasures  undeaueath.  Her  com 
plexion  is  not  very  white  but  clear  and  transparent,  showing  the 
slightest  variations  of  the  purple  flood  beneath.  Her  teeth  are  per 
fect,  and  as  she  greets  the  company  assembled  a  smile  o£  exquisite 
beauty  flits  over  her  perfect  features  They  are  now  fully  devel- 


134  DOLORES. 

oped,  and  the  promise  of  the  bud  has  been  fulfilled  by  the  open 
flower.  She  is — but  no,  I  shall  not  attempt  to  paint  a  beauty  which 
defies  the  painter's  brush,  much  more  the  sharp  point  with  which 
the  author  is  to  depict  the  features  of  his  heroes  and  the  traits  of 
their  character.  Perhaps  the  reader  may  by  following  my  tale  catch 
here  and  there  a  glimpse  of  the  charms,  a  view  into  the  soul  of  this 
young  being  on  whom  nature  had,  for  once  without  freaks,  showered 
her  richest  gifts  and  blessings.  With  these  glimpses  he  must  rest 
satisfied. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

A    LETTER. 

Mrs.  Fuchs  arose  and  with  motherly  care  took  the  hat  and  shawl 
of  the  visitor. 

"  You  are  late,  Dol,"  shesaid — having  long  ago  adopted  Charles' 
mode  of  naming  her — "  we  had  almost  given  you  up." 

"  I  had  to  wait  for  papa,"  she  said,  casting  a  side  glance  at  the 
stranger  in  the  arm  chair.  "  He  intended  coming  with  me,  but  be 
ing  suddenly  prevented  by  pressing  business  sent  James  along  to  see 
me  safely  to  the  cottage.  It  wasn't  necessary,"  she  added,  with  a 
light  laugh,  "  for  I  am  not  at  all  afraid  ;  but  papa  wills  it  so,  and 
like  a  dutiful  daughter  I  obey." 

After  this  Charles  took  it  upon  himself  to  inform  his  friend  of 
the  great  event  of  the  day.  First  her  eye  brightened  considerably 
at  the  news  of  the  arrival  of  an  uncle  from  Germany,  and  she  wel 
comed  the  stranger  in  his  native  tongue  with  her  usual  warmth  of 
expression  ;  but  when  he  answered  in  his  cynical  style,  and  in  the 
course  of  the  evening  displayed  traits  of  character  not  at  all  com 
mendable,  she  shrank  from  the  new-comer,  becoming  rather  taciturn 
and  merely  casting  uncertain  glances  on  his  vulgar  features  when 
she  thought  she  could  do  this  without  observation. 

Uncle  Jacob  in  the  meantime  continued  his  libations,  and  from 
the  growing  freedom  of  expression  and  total  absence  of  restraint,  it 
became  evident  that  the  fiery  wine  began  to  make  a  marked  impres- 


DOLOKES.  135 

sion  upon  his  brain.  Becoming  more  boastful  and  vainglorious 
every  minute,  at  last  he  said  : 

"  This  wine  is  good,  verteufelt  good.  It  opens  man's  heart,  as 
the  poet  says  ;  it  surely  opened  mine.  I  did  not  mean  to  make  you 
so  early  the  recipients  of  the  golden  news  I  bear  within  my  pocket ; 
but  you  have  been  so  clever  to  uncle  Jacob  that  he  cannot  think  of 
leaving  you  in  the  dark  any  longer.  Yes,  indeed,  you  have  not 
honored  a  niggardly  uncle,  as  my  communications  will  soon  show. 
Brother  Conrad,  do  you  recollect  our  great  grandfather  Eberhard  ?" 

"  Yes,  Jacob,  I  do.  Grandfather  often  spoke  to  us  about  him. 
He  had  a  restless,  roving  disposition,  visiting  all  the  countries  on 
the  globe  and  finally  dying  far  from  home,  nobody  knows  where." 

11  Nobody  knew  where,  you  had  better  say,  for  lately  documents 
have  been  discovered  which  make  it  almost  certain  that  he  died  on 
the  coast  of  Maine,  probably  in  this  neighborhood." 

"Indeed?"  Conrad  inquired,  with  that  curiosity  which  is  so 
natural  when  the  destiny  of  some  member  of  the  family  is  made  the 
topic  of  conversation.  The  others  also  listened  to  uncle  Jacob  with 
more  attention  than  they  had  hitherto  evinced  during  the  evening, 
without,  however,  in  the  least  understanding  what  the  history  of  a 
great  grand-uncle  could  have  to  do  with  the  golden  news  that  had 
been  promised. 

"  Indeed?  "  he  said,  •'  that  must  have  been  quite  recently,  for 
it  is  altogether  new  to  me.  How  did  that  happen  ?  " 

"Why,  this  way.  You  recollect  our  great  aunt  Sarah,  who 
died  an  old  maid  a  number  of  years  ago  ? " 

"  Of  course  1  do.     We  received  a  little  legacy  from  her." 

"  Exactly.  Well,  about  a  year  ago  the  house  in  which  she  had 
lived  and  which  had  been  in  the  Fuchs  family  for  many  genera 
tions  was  repaired,  and  on  removing  some  old  rubbish  in  the  garret 
a  box  with  musty  papers  was  discovered,  which,  on  closer  examina 
tion,  proved  to  contain  family  documents.  The  owner,  not  belong 
ing  to  the  old  stock  and  hearing  about  my  temporary  presence  in 
the  town,  sent  for  me,  and  on  my  arrival  at  the  house  delivered  the 
whole  box  into  my  hands.  I  caused  it  at  once  to  be  removed  to  my 
lodgings,  and  feeling  rather  curious  to  learn  the  nature  of  the  pa 
pers,  began  to  examine  them.  It  was  a  tedious  task.  Most  of  the 
papers  were  diaries,  treating  on  the  income  and  expenses  of  the 


136  DOLORES. 

Fuchs  for  many  years.  To  me  they  were  extremely  indifferent,  or 
rather  a  source  of  vexation,  for  it  made  me  angry  to  think  that  such 
large  sums  had  once  been  handled  by  my  ancestors  and  yet  not  a 
cent  come  down  to  my  poor  person.  I  was  already  on  the  point  of 
delivering  the  whole  plunder  to  the  fire,  when  all  at  once  a  name 
and  date  attracted  my  attention  and  kept  my  eye  rivited  to  the  doc 
ument  on  which  they  stood.  The  name  was  Eberhardt  Fuchs  and 
the  date  the  year  1760." 

"Well,  what  more?  Go  on,  uncle  Jacob,"  Charles  urged  the 
narrator,  who  had  stopped  for  a  moment. 

"Ah!  the  young  gentleman  gets  interested,"  Jacob  Fuchs  re 
marked  with  a  grin  and  evident  satisfaction  at  the  other's  impa 
tience.  "  Well,  I'm  coming  ;  only  give  me  a  moment's  time  to  pro 
duce  the  document." 

With  these  words  he  put  his  hand  into  his  coat  pocket  and  drew 
out  a  large  and  old  fashioned  diary  which  was  firmly  secured  by  a 
leather  string  reaching  half  a  dozen  times  around  it.  Uncle  Jacob 
unwound  it  slowly  and  with  the  dignity  of  a  man  who  knows  what 
he  is  about.  At  last  the  string  was  off,  and  the  cover  yielding  to» 
the  presence  of  the  hand  displayed  a  number  of  pockets,  all  of 
which  were  empty  excepting  one,  that  contained  a  yellow  looking 
paper.  Jacob  seized  it  with  a  solemn  mien,  and  turning  to  the 
company  remarked  : 

"  The  time  has  come  when  those  of  you  who  suspected  uncle 
Jacob's  soundness  of  mind  will  humble  themselves  before  him  and 
eagerly  beg  his  forgiveness.  It  will  be  easily  obtained  and  readily 
bestowed  ;  but  Mr.  Charles  being  the  greatest  skeptic,  if  I  am  not 
mistaken,  deserves  a  little  penalty,  which  we  shall  infiict  upon  him 
by  making  him  read  the  letter  to  the  company." 

Charles  was  well  satisfied  with  this  punishment  ;  his  interest  was 
awakened,  and  fearing  the  delay  which  would  surely  result  from 
his  uncle's  pompous  way  he  was  very  willing  to  act  in  the  capacity 
of  reader.  Taking  the  paper  from  the  other's  hand  and  holding  it 
to  the  light  in  order  to  decipher  the  lines,  which  time  had  half  ob 
literated,  he  read  : 

ON  BOARD  "  THE  ROVER,"     \ 
GULF  OK  MKXICO,  July  20,  1760.  / 

Dear  Caroline:  In  spite  of  your  interdiction  I  take  the  peii  to 
write  to  you.  I  cannot  help  it,  for  just  as  the  plant  turns  its  head  to 


DOLOKES.  137 

the  sunlight,  I  turn  to  you  for  one  smile,  one  word  of  comfort,  yes 
of  love.  You  banished  me  from  my  native  home  ;  you  drive  me  a 
fugitive  over  land  and  sea,  and  shall  I  not  even  have  the  comfort  to 
write  to  you,  to  tell  you  that  I  love  you  as  much,  no,  more  than 
ever?  This  can,  this  must  not  be,  and  if  I  displease  and  offend  you 
by  this  letter,  I  take  comfort  at  the  thought  that  my  approaching 
dissolution  will  attone  for  it. 

I  shall  not  live  much  longer,  Caroline,  and  there  is  comfort  in 
the  thought,  for  it  means  I  shall  not  suffer  and  sin  much  longer. 
Suffer  and  sin!  Yes,  Caroline,  I  Lave  had  hell  in  my  bosom  ever 
since  you  disdained  my  love,  and  reached  to  Brother  John  the  hand 
which  ought  to  have  been  mine.  A  sea  of  fire  has  been  raging  there, 
where  others  carry  feelings  of  a  gentle  nature.  It  has  driven  me 
from  continent  to 'continent  and  plunged  me  in  a  vortex  of  the  worst 
of  dissipations.  Or  do  you  t  hi  LI  k  that  deeds  of  virtue  could  spring 
from  fiery  passions  such  as  mine?  No,  Caroline,  it  could  not  be  and 
your  good  and  pure  soul  would  shrink  from  me,  if  it  could  look  into 
the  dreadful  abyss  from  which  the  deeds  of  my  daik  career  have 
risen. 

Why  do  I  write  this  down  ?  Why  do  I  make  you,  as  it  were, 
an  accomplice  of  my  crimes?  Ah,  love  is  selfish,  Caroline,  and  un 
requited  love  yearns  for  revenge.  You  were  mine,  mine  alone,  if 
deep,  undying  passion  establishes  a  claim,  and  yet  you  gave  away 
what  belonged  to  me  and  by  doing  so  created  a  blank  in  my  nature 
which  has  never  since  been  filled.  No  smile  has  lit  my  face,  no  af 
fection  warmed  my  heart,  no  sympathy  has  drawn  me  to  a  fellow 
being.  No  ray  has  ever  shown  into  that  blank,  that  dreadful  blank, 
but  grim  spectres  have  risen  there,  spectres  with  diabolical  faces, 
that  have  sneered  at  innocence  and  virtue  and  allured  me  on  to  a 
path  of  wickedness  on  which  nc  sin  is  wanting  that  hell  can  boast 
of.  You  know  I  never  was  a  halfway  man,  and  my  love  which 
could  have  made  a  saint  of  me,  if  requited,  has  driven  me  to  the 
extremes  of  iniquity,  since  you  disdained  it. 

I  am  tired  of  life,  for  life  can  offer  nothing  worth  living  for,  since 
you  are  denied  to  me.  The  long  years  of  separation  have  been  one 
continued  effort  to  forget,  but  that  effort  has  been  nothing  but  a 
miserable  failure.  Imagine  then,  how  glad  I  must  be  to  see  the 
moment  approaching  when  this  wretched  wreck  of  mine  will  fore- 
ever  disappear  from  the  surface  of  life's  ocean.  I  shall  not  prompt 
the  hand  of  time,  I  am  not  coward  enough  to  lift  my  hand  against 
myself,  but  I  feel,  I  know  with  deep  satisfaction  that  the  volcano  in 
my  bosom  has  nearly  spent  its  wrath,  that  the  substance  feeding  it 
has  well  nigh  become  exhausted. 

Farewell,  Caroline.  I  owe  to  you  much  suffering  but  I  also  owe 
to  you  a  happiness  of  by  gone  days,  the  very  recollection  of  which 
would  be  bliss,  if  not  embittered  by  the  torments  of  jealousy.  I  do 
not  curse  you  or  your  memory,  let  that  suffice,  for  as  to  blessing 
you,  I  have  forgotten  how  to. 

I  leave  much  gold  ;  I  leave  it  to  your  children.  My  will  has  been 
executed  and  rests  safely  in  a  cave  on  the  coast  of  Maine,  near  the 
large  estate  on  which  my  brother  Walter  lives  as  steward.  He  is  to 
have  a  competence,  but  the  greatest  portion  goes  unto  your  children 
as  the  testament  will  show.  I  shall  deposit  it  in  the  courts,  as  soon 
as  I  return  there,  for  I  feel  that  my  days  are  numbered. 

Do  not  thank  me,  Caroline,  for  you  have  no  occasion.    In  leav- 


138  DOLORES. 

ing  my  money  to  your  children  I  hardly  know  whether  I  act  from 
motives  of  revenge  or  affection.  Alas!  I  love  your  little  ones  in  as 
far  as  they  are  part  of  you,  but  I  feel  malignant  hate  arising  in  nay 
bosom  when  I  consider  that  they  are  also  part  of  his. 

No,  Caroline,  no,  thank  me 'not.  But  when  you  sooner  or  later 
look  upon  the  mementoes  of  a  man  that  died  a  victim  of  his  love,  re 
member  with  a  tear  poor  EBERHARDT. 

During  the  reading  of  this  passionate  letter  a  deep  silence  had 
been  reigning  in  the  room.  Even  after  Charles  had  finished,  the 
echoes  of  the  soul-stiring  appeal  continued  to  vibrate  in  the  hearts 
of  the  hearers,  and  when  Uncle  Jacob  interrupted  the  silence  with 
the  exultation  of  the  heir  expectant,  thoy  felt  it  like  a  discord  jar 
ring  upon  their  hearts.  He  evidently  was  callous  to  such  silly  sen 
timents,  or  may  be  the  many  readings  he  had  given  the  letter  had 
hardened  him  against  its  impressions. 

11  Well,  what  now  ?"  he  inquired,  sending  a  triumphant  glance 
around  the  room.  "Where  are  the  skeptics,  the  scoffers?  Who 
is  the  first  to  ask  pardon  of  the  benignant  uncle  that  is  to  make 
you  all  rich  ?" 

His  words  in  a  degree  dispelled  the  feelings  of  the  company, 
awakened  by  the  reading.  Charles  was  the  first  to  collect  himself 
sufficiently  for  an  answer. 

"Not  quite  so  fast,  uncle  !"  he  exclaimed  with  a  smile  on  his 
lips.  "This  letter  is  a  fine  document  and  well  calculated  to  set  our 
hearts  throbbing,  but  it  is  merely  a  promise,  uncle,  and  a  promise 
and  its  fulfilment  are  two  differnt  things.  Before  we  humble  our 
selves  before  you  in  sackcloth  aud  ashes,  tell  us  where  is  the  testa 
ment  of  the  writer  ?" 

"The  testament?  Ah — hm — well,  the  testament  is — i4  at  a 
place  of  which  I  am  not  exactly  aware  ;  that  is,  I  presume  I  have 
my  idea — 

"  And  what  is  your  idea,  uncle?" 

Uncle  Jacob'  cleared  his  throat  and  arranged  his  cravat.  Then 
he  emptied  a  glass  of  wine  and  finally  said  : 

"  You  see  the  letter  speaks  about  the  courts — 

•'But  which  courts,  uncle?" 

"That's  more  than  I  can  tell  ;  but  Eberhardt  Fuchs  evidently 
means  the  courts  of  Maine." 

"There  are  many  courts  in  Maine,  uncle." 

"Pshaw  !  nephew,  I  I  know  all  that,  but  the  number  is  not  so 


DOLORES.  139 

large  that  we  couldn't  soon  find  out  whether  the  last  will  of  a  cer 
tain  Eberhardt  Fuchs  or  Fox  had  been  recorded  there." 

"  Fuchs  or  Fox?"  Charles  inquired  with  increased  attention. 
"  What  do  you  mean  by  those  two  names  ?" 

"I  mean  simply  that  from  the  diary  of  our  great  grand-aunt  it 
is  evidant  that  Eberhardt's  brother  Walter,  mentioned  in  this  let 
ter,  has  changed  his  German  name  of  Fuchs  to  the  English  equi 
valent  of  Fox." 

The  family  exchanged  glances,  but  there  seemed  to  be  a  tactic 
agreement  to  leave  to  Charles  the  office  of  speaker. 

''That  brings  us  nearer  home,  indeed,'  the  young  man  remark 
ed  thougtfully,  ' '  for  there  is  a  family  of  Fox  in  this  village  who 
have  been  here  for  several  generations  and  in  case  of  the  correct 
ness  of  your  statements  would  be  our  relatives.  Just  think  of  it, 
mother  ?  You  the  cousin  of  proud  Mrs.  Fox  in  the  mansion.  Won't 
she  enjoy  the  idea  though  ?" 

Charles  laughed  heartily,  turning  his  eyes  from  his  mother  to 
the  fair  visitor  at  his  side  who  sat  there  the  very  picture  of  sus 
pense  and  excitement.  However,  before  Mrs.  Fuchs  or  anybody 
else  could  reply  to  Charlie's  remark,  Uncle  Jacob  had  snatched  up 
the  word  saying  : 

"Let  her  enjoy  it  or  not,  dear  nephew,  that  can  be  very  in 
different  to  us.  Let  us  discover  the  testament,  the  precious  testa 
ment,  and  we  may  laugh  at  her  displeasure,  for  displeased  she  will 
be,  I  am  sure,  on  receiving  short  notice  to  quit  and  make  room  for 
better  people.  Yes,  she  won't  like  it,  I  dare  say." 

"  But  even  if  we  find  the  testament,  uncle,  you  forget  that  this 
Mr.  Eberhardt  makes  his  brother  joint  heir  with  the  children  of 
Caroline." 

"Pshaw  !  a  trifle,  a  bonus,  a  bone  thrown  to  the  dogs.  Don't 
he  speak  of  much  gold,  and  that  his  brother  Walter  is  merely  to 
have  a  competence?" 

"  That  is  true,  and  if  you  find  the  testament  you  may  indeed 
be  able  to  compel  Mrs.  Fox  to  move  her  trucks." 

Ah,  there  !     I  am  glad  you  think  so  !" 

A  silence  followed  these  words  and  the  company  was  evidently 
the  prey  of  some  embarrassment.  At 'last  Mrs.  Fuchs  drew  a  breath 
saying  : 


140  DOLORES. 

"  I,  for  my  part,  hope  it  won't  be  found.  I  don't  like  to  drive 
people  out  of  their  possessions." 

"Nor  I  !"  said  Charles  promptly,  his  father  joining  him.  Henry 
kept  silent,  his  eager  eye  watching  his  uncle's  lips. 

"  Are  you  crazy  ?"  Jacob  inquired,  letting  his  wondering  eye 
wander  from  one  member  of  the  family  to  the  other.  "  That  is 
down  right  madness.  But  if  you  <vant  to  play  the  sympathizing 
fools,  bear  well  in  mind  that  Uncle  Jacob  will  not  keep  you  com 
pany.  I  haven't  staked  for  naught  my  last  farthing  on  the  suc 
cessful  establishment  of  this  claim,  and  if  you  are  willing  to  forego 
your  rights,  I  for  one  will  push  mine  with  every  particle  of  strength 
n  my  possession." 

Another  silence  which  Uncle  Jacob  employed  to  drain  another 
glass  of  wine.  Charles  was  the  first  to  speak  again. 

"  I  do  not  blame  you  much  for  your  determination  ;  for  you  do 
not  like  us,  entertain  friendly  relations  to  the  family  concerned.  I 
acknowledge  that  you  have  a  right  to  investigate  this  case,  but  I 
feel  extremely  doubtful  whether  you  will  succeed.  If  such  a  will 
as  that  this  letter  speaks  about  had  ever  been  filed  in  our  courts 
we  could  hardly  have  failed  to  learn  something  about  it.  However, 
it  is  not  impossible,  and  if  you  succeed  I  shall  not  be  slow  to  con 
gratulate  you." 

"  Charlas,  how  can  you  speak  so  ?"  his  mother  inquired  with 
tones  of  reproach.  '•  Does  it  not  clear iy  appear  from  that  letter 
that  the  gold  of  Eberhardt  Fuchs  is  the  result  of  sin  and  iniquity  ? 
It  is  dated  on  board  a  vessel.  Have  you  forgotten  the  story  in  the 
mouth  of  the  people  concerning  a  certain  pirate  who  bore  the  name 
of  Fox  ?" 

"No,  mother,  I  haven't.  I  never  believed  in  it,  but  now  I 
think  I  was  mistaken." 

"  And  such  gold  you  would  rejoice  in?" 

"Mother,  I  did  not  say  so.  I  merely  said  that  I  should  con 
gratulate  Uncle  Jacob,  in  case  he  should  succeed  in  establishing 
his  claim.  Moreover  our  opinion  concerning  this  ancestor  of  ours 
merely  rests  on  a  supposition  ;  let  us  at  least  give  him  the  benefit 
of  a  doubt." 

The  miens  of  uncle  Jacob  showed  a  nervous  restlessness.  Help 
ing  himseK  to  more  wine  and  gulping  it  down  as  if  desirous  of 


DOLORES.  141 

gathering  strength  and  resolution  from  it,  he  snapped  his  fingers, 
saying : 

* '  You  are  a  pious  set,  you  are.  When  a  member  of  the  family 
comes  across  the  ocean,  a  man  that  is  tied  to  you  by  bonds  of  blood, 
and  holds  out  to  you  the  prospect  of  unbounded  wealth,  you  say 
"fi"  into  his  face,  and  would  rather  see  him  die  in  want  and  pover 
ty  than  have  a  family  of  strangers  come  to  harm.  I  call  that  mean, 
and  when  you  set  up  wry  faces  and  cross  yourself  against  the 
demon  that  helped  amass  the  gold  and,  may  be,  guards  it  all  the 
while,  I  call  that  ridiculous." 

"Don't  get  excited,  brother  Jacob,"  Mr.  Fuchs  now  exhorted 
the  visitor  whose  flushed  countenance  threatened  further  complica 
tions.  "Keep  calm  and  let  us  all  sleep  upon  this  wonderful  rela 
tion,  before  we  make  it  the  matter  of  further  deliberations." 

"Well,  I  have*  no  objections,"  Jacob  said,  "only  the  matter 
ought  to  be  kept  amongst  ourselves.  If  we  allow  it  to  become 
known  our  adversary  may  take  measures  to  strengthen  his  position. 
The  family,  I  hope,  will  keep  the  secret,  and  that  young  lady- 
All  eyes  were  turned  to  Dolores  who,  in  the  excitement  of  the 
discovery,  had  been  overlooked. 

She  blushed,  but  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  replied  : 
' '  I  shall  respect  your  secret,  sir,  although  you  are  conspiring 
against  a  man  who  is  my  father  and  my  benefactor." 

"What!"  uncle  Jacob  exclaimed  with  indignation,  "she  a 
daughter  of  this  man  and  I  received  no  warning  ?" 

"She  is  a  foster  daughter,  uncle,"  Charles  replied,  "'but  I 
answer  for  her  secrecy." 

"A  foster  daughter?"  Jacob  returned,  and  his  look  became 
quite  vague  and  absent.  '  'She  looks  as  if  she  was  a  member  of  the 
family.  There  was  a  miniature  picture  amongst  aunt  Sarah's  things 
that  looked  exactly  like  her.  Are  you  sure  she  is  not  a  relative  of 
ours  ?" 

"  Sure,  uncle  !  She  is  Italian  by  birth  and  her  name  is  Gatana." 
"Gatana?  That  name  sounds  strange  to  me,  though  one  of 
Caroline's  sons  went  to  Italy  and  settled  there.  He  was  a  painter 
and  a  roving  fellow  like  his  uncle  Eberhardt,  though  nothing  evil 
could  ever  be  said  of  him.  He  married  in  Rome  and  had  a  son 
who  also  became  a  painter  and  a  celebrated  one,  too.  I  shouldn't 


142  DOLORES. 

have  known  this  if  it  hadn't  been  for  a  diary  of  our  great  grand 
mother  which  fell  into  my  hands  with  this  letter." 

11  You  have  her  diary?"  Charles  inquired  eagerly.  "O,  let  me 
see  it,  uncle,  for  she  must  have  been  a  wonderful  woman  to  inspire 
such  a  violent  passion." 

''Indeed,  I  never  could  see  anything  wonderful  about  her  looks 
or  her  writings.  There  was  a  picture  of  hers  in  the  box." 

"  But  the  diary,  uncle,  the  diary  !" 

"  I  am  sorry  I  cannot  give  it  to  you  just  now  ;  it  is  in  my  car 
pet-bag.  But  if  you'll  have  patience  till  to-morrow— 

"  Of  course,  uncle,  I  can  wait  that  long.  To  morrow  morning, 
then,  I  shall  call  on  you  for  the  papers." 

The  conversation  now  turned  on  other  points,  but  it  was  flat  and 
dragging,  as  might  well  be  expected  after  such  startling  disclosures. 
Uncle  Jacob  by  this  time  had  reached  the  drowsy  stage  of  drunken 
ness  and  after  a  good  deal  of  nodding  was  gone  into  the  land  of 
dreams.  Delicacy  of  feeling  prevented  the  family  from  making 
commentaries  on  him  and  his  doings,  and  other  topics  proving  stale 
the  family  retired  sooner  than  was  customary.  Dolores  gave  the 
signal  by  rising  and  signifying  her  intention  to  depart  for  home. 
James  having  been  ordered  at  a  late  hour,  the  company  of  Charles 
was  offered  and  accepted  and  soon  the  young  couple  wandered  un 
der  a  starry  sky.  But  the  heart  of  Dolores  was  too  full  to  remain 
unopened  and  stopping  suddenly  she  exclaimed  : 

"O  !  Charlie,  this  is  wonderful !  almost  as  strange  as  our  ad 
venture  in  the  cave." 

"  You  see  the  bearing  then,  Dol,  which  both  events  have  upon 
one  another  ?" 

"  I  think  I  do,  Charlie,  though  I  tremble  at  making  my  deduc 
tions.  Mr.  Fox's  ancestor  a  pirate  !" 

"  Why  don't  you  say>  and  mine,  too  ?" 

"Because  I  could'nt  think  of  wounding  thus  your  feeling." 

Charles  smiled. 

"  I  am  not  so  easily  wounded,  Dol,  as  that.  Uncle  Jacob  would 
be  proud  of  the  connection  if  that  could  only  secure  his  money." 

' '  Uncle  Jacob  is  no  favorite  of  mine  ;  pardon  me  for  saying 
that  much  of  a  relative  of  yours." 


DOLORES.  143 

"  There  is  no  occasion  for  asking  pardon,  Dol.  You  know  we 
never  differed  much  in  judgment." 

"  So  you  don't  like  him  either?" 

"Like  him  !     I  have  a  notion  to  make  you  ask  my  pardon  now." 

"And  you  think  there  is  not  much  danger  of  his  finding  the 
testament?" 

"  Not  much  danger  of  his  finding  it ;  but  I  know  a  couple  who 
might  have  better  chances." 

Again  the  girl  started.     Stopping  short,  she  said  : 

"  You  mean  us  two  ?  Could  it  be  barely  possible  that  the  cave 
should  still  hold  the  secret  ?" 

"Not  only  possible,  but  almost  certain,  unless  the  ancestors  of 
your  foster  father  discovered  and  destroyed  the  document  in  order 
to  improve  their  claim." 

"  That  would  have  been  a  crime." 

Charles  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

' '  Few  men  are  overscrupulous,  where  money  is  concerned. 
Take  uncle  Jacob  as  an  example  ;  he  would  do  many  things,  I  ven 
ture,  which  are  not  recorded  in  the  book  of  honor  to  appropriate 
the  prize  he  is  in  search  of." 

When  Dolores  did  not  reply,  he  continued  : 

"  No,  I  think  the  will  still  lies  secreted  where  the  pirate  buried 
it  and,  I  have  but  little  doubt,  that  the  cave  is  the  spot.  How 
fortunate  that  our  term  of  probation  is  drawing  to  a  close." 

"  Why,  Charlie,  you  think  of  aiding  this  man  against  my 
father  ?" 

"No,  Dol ;  you  must  not  look  at  it  in  this  light.  The  finding 
of  the  will  may  be  as  propicious  to  Mr.  Fox  as  to  us  and  then  it  is 
more  than  likely  that  the  place  which  hides  the  testament  will  also 
contain  a. portion,  may  be  a  large  portion,  of  the  treasures  of  which 
the  letter  speaks." 

"  Then  you  think  that  the  unhappy  man  never  returned  to  the 
cave  ?" 

"  Returned  perhaps  to  die  there.  Don't  you  remember  the  tale 
I  told  you,  Dol  ?" 

"  I  do  remember,"  she  said  with  a  shudder.     "What  a  horrible 

end !" 


144  DOLOKES. 

"The  story  may  magnify  the  horror."  The  bones,  however,  we 
found  warrant  a  shade  of  truth  to  it." 

"But  why  should  later  visitors,  why  should  those  men  we  saw 
there,  not  have  buried  the  skeleton  ?" 

"  Perhaps  to  terrify  uncalled  visitors.  Let  that  be  as  it  may  ; 
I  am  bound  to  search  for  the  will  as  soon  as  I  am  free  to  go  to  the 
cave." 

"  When  will  that  be  ?" 

"  Within  one  week  just  from  to-day." 

"  Is  not  the  risk  you  run  too  great  a  stake  for  the  possible  gain  ?" 

"  May  be,  Dol ;  but  it  isn't  the  gain  that  tempts  me.  There  is 
a  mystery  concerning  our  family  and  as  long  as  that  is  unrevealed, 
I  shall  have  no  rest." 

"  I  think  I  understand  you,  Charlie,  and  I  shall  make  no  further 
objections,  provided  you  allow  me  to  satisfy  my  curiosity  at  the 
same  time." 

"  There,  you  have  got  me  now,  Dol,  I  declare.  It  is  hardly 
fair  to  set  such  traps  for  your  friends ;  but  you  have  the  advantage 
and  may  as  well  follow  it  up.  But  ain't  you  afraid  to  go,  child?" 

AVe  see  that  Charles  carefully  preserves  old  privileges,  for  the 
appellation  of  '  'child"  is  hardly  applicable  to  that  companion  at  his 
side. 

Dolores  shook  her  head. 

"  I  am  not  afraid,  Charlie,"  she  said  with  a  smile,  "but  I  experi 
ence  the  feeling  that  used  to  creep  over  me,  when  a  child  I  listened 
to  the  fairy  tales  of  old.  If  it  is  fear  it  certainly  is  clothed  ioto  a 
very  attractive  garb." 

The  dear  girl,  in  giving  this  reply,  evidently  did  not  examine 
her  inner-self  very  closely.  If  she  had  done  so  she  might  have 
found  that  she  was  more  afraid  for  her  companion  than  for  herself 
and  being,unable  to  prevent  his  going  found  a  comfort  in  sharing 
his  danger. 

The  distance  to  the  mansion  was  but  short  and  the  young  couple 
reached  the  carriage  gate  much  sooner  than  they  liked.  Xot  that 
this  feeling  had  manifested  itself  to  them  in  a  tangible  shape — Dol 
might  have  even  attempted  a  denial — but  it  surely  was  in  existence; 
it  showed  itself  in  the  pressure  of  their  hands  at  parting  in  the 
slightly  doleful  character  of  the  "good  night"  and  the  repeated 


DOLORES.  145 

turning  of  the  head  of  which  both  parties  were  guilty,  although 
they  might  as  well  have  omitted  it,  for  all  the  benefit  they  derived 
from  it  in  the  dead  of  the  night. 

Happy  young  couple  !  happy,  because  they  are  so  without  know 
ing  it,  enjoying,  as  it  were,  the  rich  hour  of  promise  just  before  the 
dawn  of  morning.  The  sun  will  soon  rise,  the  glories  of  his  colors 
will  set  the  skies  on  fire  ;  his  genial  heat,  his  alluring  smile  will  en 
tice  all  nature  into  frolicsome  gladness.  The  flowers  will  then  open, 
the  bugs  will  buzz;  a  deep,  trembling  happiness  will  penetrate 
through  nature.  The  earth  will  heave  and  shout  in  a  thousand 
voices  the  supreme  rapture  of  existence,  as  if  it  feared  to  suffocate 
with  the  f ulsomeness  of  life's  delight. 

All  this  the  hour  of  early  morn  anticipates,  and  so  does  the 
youthful  heart  foretaste  the  bliss  of  love  before  the  consciousness  of 
love  has  ever  dawned.  No  constraint  as  yet  fettered  the  genial  in 
tercourse  between  the  youth  and  maiden  ;  no  stammering  diffidence, 
no  burning  blush  became  the  treacherous  index  of  their  heart's  sen 
sations.  Hand  in  hand  they  wander  over  meadows  decked  with 
flowers,  their  bosoms  calm,  their  faces  serene,  their  steps  elastic. 
But  now  the  heavenly  light  peep  over  the  horizon,  wrapping  the 
distant  mountains  in  a  veil  of  purple.  They  stop  to  look  ;  they 
look  and  wonder  ;  they  wonder  and  an  undefined  sensation,  as 
strange  as  new  creeps  over  their  hearts,  runs  along  their  nerves, 
shoots  through  their  brains,  knocking  everywhere  at  the  secret  doors 
of  their  existence  and  causing  new  life  to  spring  under  its  footsteps. 
At  once  they  know  and  tremble  at  their  knowledge  ;  they  shrink 
from  one  another's  sight  and  flee  each  other,  merely  to  unite.  No 
longer  does  their  laughter's  merry  peel  echo  through  the  woods  and 
on  the  banks  of  the  rivulets  ;  they  grow  pale  and  melancholy,  but 
drink  happiness  from  their  very  sadness  ;  they — in  short  they  love, 
obeying  thus  the  great  eternal  law  which  called  them  forth  into  ex 
istence  for  that  purpose.  Love  !  life's  essence  and  condition,  its  in 
and  out,  its  up  and  down,  its  all  and  everything  I  Love  !  the  old 
story  told  ever  since  Adam  learned  to  know  the  charms  of  Eve,  and 
yet  not  finished,  and  never  to  be  finished  as  long  as  minutes  run 
along  the  everlasting  stream  of  time. 


TO 


146  DOLORES. 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

A    VOICE    FROM    THE    GRAVE. 

When  Charles  called  on  his  uncle  the  next  morning  for  the  pa 
pers  promised  that  gentleman  was  still  in  bed  snoring  away  the  ef 
fects  of  last  night's  potations.  But  Charles  declined  to  stand  on 
ceremony  ;  he  was  impatient  for  the  papers,  and  at  the  same  time 
thought  that  his  uncle  wasn't  the  man  to  be  approached  on  tiptoe. 
So  he  went  up  to  the  bed,  and  shaking  the  arm  o£  the  sleeper  cried 
in  his  ear : 

"  Good  morning,  uncle  Jacob.  I  hope  you  enjoyed  a  good  night's 
rest." 

"Oh!  ah!"  the  sleeper  groaned,  throwing  his  arms  wildly 
around  his  head.  '•  Don't  take  the  will  ;  you  shan't  have  the  will." 

"  He  dreams  about  it,"  Charles  muttered,  and  giving  his  uncle 
another  shake  tried  to  awaken  him. 

At  last  the  man  opened  his  eyes,  staring  at  the  youth  with  agaze 
so  vacant  as  to  lack  every  vestige  of  intelligence  and  recognition. 
However,  by  and  by  he  grew  more  wakeful,  and  rubbing  his  eyes 
said  to  his  nephew  : 

"Ah  !  Charles,  that's  you,  up  and  dressed.  Ah!  you  young 
folks  have  the  advantage  over  us.  I  declare  1  am  as  drowsy  as  if 
I  hadn't  slept  an  hour.  What  time  is  it,  Charlie?" 

"  Oh,  it's  early  enough,  uncle  ;  only  I  thought  I'd  wake  you  in 
time  to  get  ready  for  breakfast." 

"  Thank  you,  my  boy,  but  I  don't  feel  a  bit  hungry  this  morn 
ing,  and  with  your  permission  shall  take  another  nap.  Your  moth 
er's  good  things  wron't  run  away,  you  know." 

"  Just  as  you  please,  uncle  ;  only  I  would  thank  you  to  give  me 
that  diary  now.  I  have  to  go  to  the  factory  by  and  by,  and  should 
like  to  read  it  before  I  leave." 

"'Exactly,  Charlie.  Here,  take  the  key  and  open  my  carpet 
bag.  Do  you  see  the  bundle  of  papers  ?  Just  take  the  top  one  ; 
that's  it.  I  hope  you'll  enjoy  the  reading,  though  I  doubt  it  very 
much,  for  to  tell  you  the  truth,  Charlie,  it's  nothing  but  woman's 
gossip,  and  awful  dry  in  the  bargain." 


DOLORES.  147 

"  I'll  make  the  best  of  it,  uncle." 

"  Exactly,  Charlie,  but  stop  a  moment,  if  you  please.  One  fa 
vor  is  worth  another,  you  know,  and  I  may  as  well  state  to  you  in 
confidence  that  I  am  in  the  habit  of  regulating  my  appetite  for  the 
day  by  a  little  dram  in  the  morning." 

"  You  want  a  glass  of  wine,  uncle  ?  " 

''No,  Charlie,  no  wine.  The  best  wine  has  some  acidity  which 
contracts  the  stomach  and  prevents  it  from  doing  its  whole  duty.  I 
want  something  of  a  stronger  nature,  something  that  will  shut  up 
the  cracks  and  fissures  in  my  old  receptacle  and  impart  a  glow  of 
health  and  vigor  to  its  muscles."  • 

"  I  understand  you,  uncle,"  Charles  replied  with  a  laugh,  for  he 
could  not  help  enjoying  his  uncle's  pointed  way  of  stating  things  in 
spite  of  his  uncouthness.  He  applied  to  his  mother  for  the  strong 
est  stomach  bitters  she  had  in  the  house,  and  filling  a  large  tumbler 
with  it  returned  to  his  uncle,  who  on  his  arrival  at  the  room  had 
already  closed  one  eye  and  merely  seemed  to  keep  the  other  open  to 
report  the  coming  of  the  dram  at  headquarters. 

"  Ah  !  that's  a  good  boy.  If  the  quality  equals  the  quantity,  I 
shall  hardly  have  to  find  fault." 

Charles  smiled  when  his  uncle  took  the  tumbler  and  in  one 
draught  poured  its  contents  down  his  throat.  The  young  man  could 
hardly  have  swallowed  a  drop  without  burning  his  throat,  and  he 
felt  a  mischievous  pleasure  in  anticipating  his  uncle's  discomfiture. 
But  he  had  reckoned  without  his  host ;  not  even  a  muscle  did  that 
experienced  imbiber  of  alcoholic  drinks  suffer  to  get  out  of  shape. 

•'  First  rate  !  "  he  said,  smacking  his  lips  and  sending  forth  at 
almost  the  same  instant  the  first  of  a  number  of  snores,  which  at 
once  convinced  his  nephew  of  the  uselessness  of  further  attempts  at 
conversation.  The  youth  however,  was  by  no  means  inclined  to 
waste  any  time  on  the  old  tippler,  but,  seizing  the  paper  with  an 
eager  grasp,  left  the  room  to  seek  the  solitude  of  his  own.  Moving 
a  rocking-chair  to  the  window,  through  which  the  first  rays  of  the 
sun  proclaimed  a  golden  morning,  he  prepared  to  read  the  effusions 
of  a  heart  which  had  been  mouldering  in  the  grave  for  many,  many 
years.  It  was  with  a  certain  veneration  that  Charles  brought  the 
manuscript  to  his  eye  and  read  : 

*    *    *    Be  quiet,  heart;  what  dos't  thou  wish  ?    Hast  thou  not 


148  DOLORES. 

husband  and  children — such  darling  children  to  dote  upon  ?  What 
dost  thou  want?  Canst  thou  not  quit  to  dwell  upon  a  recollection 
which  is  as  idle  as  it  is  sinful  ? 

Alas,  thus  I  admonish  it  every  day,  but  in  vain.  I  cannot  ban 
ish  his  memory  ,  for  the  more  I  try  the  more  distinctly  it  rises  to  my 
vision.  Eberhardt,  you  have  been  well  avenged,  and  your  sad  words 
of  farewell  will  never  cease  to  echo  in  my  soul.  Where  are  you  now  ? 
Have  you  finally  found  a  home  to  rest  your  weary  feet,  a  loving  voice 
to  comfort  you,  a  caressing  hand  to  wipe  the  perspiration  from  your 
brow?  Alas,  it  was  my  province  to  administer  to  your  wants,  my 
destiny  to  travel  the  path  of  life  at  your  side,  but  a  strange  perver 
sion  blinded  me  to  my  fate  and  now — am  I  culpable?  No,  merely 
miserable,  in  spite  of  the  many  blessings  of  my  existence.  My  hus 
band  is  good  and  noble,  my  children  are  worthy  of  both  love  and 
pride,  and  yet  what  makes  my  life  a  desert?  Is  it  not  the  endless, 
ceaseless,  neVer-dying  yearning  for  the  man  whom  too  late  I  recog 
nized  as  the  idol  of  my  soul  ? 

This  is  sinful,  I  know  ;  but  I  have  given  it  up  to  stifle  an  emo 
tion  which  fills  my  heart  to  the  exclusion  of  a  wife's  affection,  a 
mother's  love.  Sometimes  I  feel  asif  I  could  no  longer  bear  this  sus 
pense  ;  as  if  I  had  to  tear  myself  from  borne  and  kindred  and  my  na 
tive  country  to  hunt  him  all  over  the  world,  and,  having  found  him, 
die  contented  at  his  feet. 

I  was  too  cruel  when  he  went.  I  forbade  him  to  think 
of  me,  to  write  to  me.  Ah  !  at  that  moment  I  was  yet  unconscious 
of  the  condition  of  my  heart.  To  day  I  have  no  greater  wish,  no 
more  ardent  desire  than  to  hear  from  him,  to  know  how  he  bears  the 
exile  to  which  my  madness  drove  him. 

*  *  *  I  have  heard  from  him.  Years  have  passed  since  his 
departure,  but  every  circumstance  connected  with  it  is  as  vividly  im 
pressed  on  my  memory  as  on  the  very  day  he  left  us.  Poor  Eber 
hardt?  he  cannot  rest,  and  by  his  restlessness  destroys  my  peace  as 
well.  My  heart,  at  least,  has  learned  to  beat  more  quietly,  but  my 
soul  is  as  much  troubled  at  the  exile's  destiny  as  ever  it  was.  If  I 
could  only  see  him  enter  a  haven  where  he  might  rest  from  the  storms 
of  life  I  think  I  could  still  learn  to  be  happy.  My  husband's  affec 
tion  is  increasing  with  his  years,  and  my  children  are  displaying 
traits  of  which  a  mother  might  well  be  proud.  My  noble  John,  who 
with  his  father's  name  seems  to  have  inherited  his  happy  disposition, 
his  equammity  and  peacefulness  of  mind  ;  my  beautiful  Eberhardt, 
named  after  the  restless  wanderer,  and  restless  as  himself.  He  can 
not  settle  down  to  any  peaceful  occupation,  but  always  builds  up  cas 
tles  in  the  air.  May  Heaven  protect  him  from  his  uncle's  destiny. 

Again  a  letter,  the  last  one  I  am  likely  to  receive  from 
him.  This  awful  letter,  half  cuise,  half  blessing.  How,  after  twenty 
long  years  of  separation,  it  has  once  more  produced  an  uproar  in  my 
soul  of  which  I  would  have  thought  myself  incapable.  Alas!  is  this  so 
wonderful  ?  A  stranger  could  not  peruse  these  lines  without  feeling 
a  shudder  creep  through  his  body,  much  less  the  person  whom  he 
would  like  to  make  accountable  for  his  transgressions.  But  am  I 
guilty  of  his  sins  ?  Had  he  a  right  to  rebel  against  his  God  and  make 
his  wretchedness  an  excuse  for  yielding  to  his  evil  passions  ?  No, 
thank  God  !  I  am  not  guilty.  If  I  misunderstood  the  feelings  of  my 
heart ;  if  in  the  innocence  of  unconscious  maidenhood  I  took  for  love 
the  voice  that  spoke  in  me  for  my  husband,  his  brother  John,  I  suf- 


DOLORES.  149 

fered  agonies  of  years  and  thereby  expatiated  my  mistake.  But  as  to 
guilt,  I  here  deny  the  charge  and  call  to  Heaven  for  a  witness  of  my 
innocence.  But  though  he  wrongs  me  in  his  charge  I  cannot  help 
crying  and  trembling  at  the  horrid  picture  he  conjures  before  my 
eyes.  What  can  he  mean  ?  What  do  his  allusions  signify  ?  Oh  ! 
this  uncertainty,  this  ambiguity  is  worse  thau  the  most  horrid  detail 
of  his  crimes. 

He  talks  of  gold  ;  how  did  he  earn  it?  He  talks  also  of  leaving 
it  to  my  children.  I  do  not  want  it ;  they  shall  not  nave  it,  for  I 
fear  there  is — but  no,  I  cannot  write  down  the  word  which  a  fearful 
suspicion  whispers  in  my»ear.  Let  him  keep  his  gold.  I  will  pity 
him,  I  will  pray  for  him,  I  will  even  with  gentle  hands  administer 
unto  his  wants  in  case  he  comes  to  die  at  home  ;  but— I  do  not  want 
his  money. 

He  must  be  dead  ;  I  feel  it  in  my  heart,  but  who 
knows  in  what  country  he  has  laid  his  weary  head  upon  the  pillow, 
never  to  lift  it  up  again. 

He  must  not  have  returned  to  Maine  or  we  should  have  heard 
from  Walter,  to  whom  he  had  entrusted  the  stewardship  of  his 
estate.  Should  Walter  hesitale  to  write  because  he  fears  that  we 
might  come  and  claim  a  portion  of  the  spoils  ?  Alas  !  there  is  no 
danger,  and  if  he  knew  my  feelings  he  might  write  perhaps  and  let 
me  know.  It  is  hard  to  bear  this  suspense. 

*  Another  year  and  not  a  word  from  him  or  Walter. 
I  am  more  fully  convinced  than  ever  that  he  is  dead.     The  thought 
troubles  me  and  gives  me  comfort  at  the  same  time.     His  life  was  so 
miserable  that  death  must  have  been  a  blessing  to  him.     Indeed  his 
letter  says  so  and  if  I  could  but  fix  my  thoughts  upon  a  spot  where 
his  weary  body  rests  I  might  pray  for  him  and  in  my  prayer  ex 
perience  a  feeling  of  relief. 

To-day  my  son  Eberhardt  left  us,  to  go  to  Italy 
and  study  the  works  of  art  which  grace  the  cities  of  that  happy  land. 
He  is  a  great  artist  and  much  as  my  heart  aches  at  the  thought  of 
of  our  long  separation,  I  cannot  grudge  him  the  delight  he  antici 
pates  from  visiting  the  home  of  many  master  spirits.  May  angels 
guard  you  on  your  way,  my  son,  and 'lead  you  safely  back  into  the 
arms  of  your  loving  mother. 

He  is  in  Rome,  the  city  without  rival,  the  eternal 
Rome,  which  loomed  through  many  centuries  and  will  continue  to 
raise  its  hallowed  head  as  long  as  earth  harbors  the  children  of  men. 
He  is  delighted  and  it  is  a  pleasure  to  read  his  letters. 

*  Resignation  is  a  mother's  destiny.    After  she  has 
fed  her  children  with  the  blood  of  her  heart,  they  leave  the  parental 
roof,  may  be  never  to  return.     Eberhardt  has  found  in  Rome  the 
maiden  of  his  choice,  and  he  requests  our  sanction  to  his  union  with 
the  loved  one.     What  can  we  do  but  consent?  and  yet  to  consent 
means  nothing  but  to  sign  our  sons  degree  of  exile.     Once  married 
in  Italy  he  may  never  return  to  the  land  of  his  fathers. 

Joyous  news  from  Italy.  Eberhardt's  Maria  has 
given  birth  to  a  son  whom  they  will  name  Carlo  in  honor  of  his 
grandmother.  Alas !  a  sad  honor  it  is,  for  will  I  ever  see  again  the 
son  of  my  heart  and  the  dear  child  that  bears  my  name. 

I  have  become  resigned  to  the  prospect  of  dying 
without  blessing  my  absent  son.     The  ties  that  bind  him  to  hi 
second  home  become  stronger  every  day,  and  though  he  promises 


150  DOLORES. 

every  letter  that  the  next  year  shall  witness  a  journey  of  his  across 
the  alps,  I  have  my  own  thoughts  about  it.  Carlo  is  getting  tall 
and  handsome,  his  rather  writes,  and  shows  a  greater  talent  for  his 
father's  art  than  does  the  father  himself.  I  hope  he  will  some  day 
be  a  great  artist. 

•  The  expectations  of  Eberhardt  regarding  Carlo's 
talents  have  been  more  than  realized.  The  young  man  is  only 
twenty  and  yet  his  picture  of  the  crucifixion  won  the  prize  at  the 
exhibition.  If  anything  can  mitigate  the  sadness  of  separation 
from  my  dear  ones  it  is  the  pride  I  take  in  their  achievements. 

I  am  getting  old  and  feeble  and  my  days  are 
numbered.  Alas !  I  am  ready  to  depart,  for  my  days  on  'earth  have 
been  many,  only  I  wish  1  could  see  my  friends  in  Italy  before  I  close 
my  eyes  in  slumber  everlasting.  I  am  a  great-grandmother  now, 
for  Carlo  has  chosen  his  companion  for  life  and  she  has  born  him  a 
daughter.  A  sweet  face  is  hers,  he  sent  me  the  picture  in  miniature 
and  I  cannot  tire  of  looking  at  the  soulful  face. 


Aunt  Caroline  is  dead  and  I  have  assumed  the  legacy  of  her 
papers.  To  me  they  are  the  dear  relics  of  a  woman  who  came  as 
near  the  angels  as  human  beings  are  capable.  She  suffered  much  in 
early  life  and  the  perusal  of  her  notes,  written  in  the  agony  of  pain, 
has  deeply  affected  me.  But  her  strength  of  mind  at  last  overcome 
her  weakness  and  the  latter  part  of  her  life  passed  in  peace  and  hap 
piness.  Poor  aunt,  if  she  could  but  have  seen  her  son  Eberhardt  be 
fore  her  death.  This  was  her  wish  by  day  and  dream  at  night  and 
her  yearning  has  no  doubt  accelerated  her  dissolution.  I  think 
Eberhardt  might  well  have  humored  the  wishes  of  his  mother,  but 
then  she  would  not  let  him  know  how  much  she  longed  to  see  him 
So  she  died  and  only  an  hour  afterwards  the  sad  news  of  Eberhardt's 
death  arrived.  It  is  well  she  died  before,  for,  if  not,  the  letter  would 
have  killed  her  with  the  shock. 

A  number  of  years  have  passed  without  my  touch 
ing  these  papers.  Now  I  have  to  chronicle  a  number  of  changes. 
Carlo  has  risen  to  great  fame  iii  italy,  his  daughter  Maria  is  wooed 
by  one  of  the  country's  princes,  the  Duke  di  Gatana. 

Further  than  this  Charles  could  not  read.  The  last  name  acted 
on  his  feelings  pretty  much  the  same  way  as  the  lighted  match  on 
a  keg  of  powder.  It  exploded  him  to  such  a  degree  that  he  had  to 
collect  himself  considerably  before  lie  was  able  to  reflect.  A  film 
over  his  eyes  prevented  him  from  seeing  and  he  had  to  wipe  them 
before  they  were  capable  of  exercising  their  functions.  At  last 
when  his  power  of  vision  returned,  he  hunted  the  place  a  second 
time  and— there  it  stood  in  plain  letters  :  Duke  di  Gatana.  Could  it 
be  possible  ?  If  a  woman  of  his  house  had  married  the  Duke  of 
Gatana — why,  then- 
He  stopped  thinking,  to  resume  a  reading  which  had  proved  so 
fascinating. 


DOLORES.  151 

*  *  *  The  report  was  true  enough  ;  two  months  ago  the 
wedding  was  celebrated  with  great  splendor  and  Maria  Fuchs,  the 
painter's  daughter,  followed  her  noble  husband  to  his  princely  do 
mains  in  Lombardy. 

*  Mary  has  written  to  me,   the  dear  child.     She 
pretends  to  be  perfectly  happy  and  yet  I  feel  a  shadow  of  sadness  in 
her  letter.    They  have  been  married  now  these  five  years  and  yet 
no  children  has  blessed  their  union.    Perhaps  the  sadness  originates 
from  this.    Indeed  there  is  no  perfect  happiness  beneath  the  skies. 

*  At  last !     An  heiress  has  made  her  appearance  in 
the  ducal  palace  and  the  vein  of  sadness  has  disappeared  from 
Maria's  letters.    May  the  sun  of  bliss  shine  forever  on  the  worthy 
couple. 

*  *  In  reading  over  the  above  wish  I  am  struck  with 
the  fickleness  of  fortune.  Alas  !  I  am  old  and  decrepit !  Why  could 
I  not  depart  without  seeing  the  loved  ones  in  Italy  come  to  want 
and  sorrow.  Caroline  died  before  the  news  of  Eberhardt's  death 
reached  her — her  niece  is  much  less  fortunate,  for  she  has  to  chronicle 
a  destiny  much  worse  than  death.  These  terrible  political  convul 
sions  !  If  the  duke  had  only  taken  Maria's  warning.  But  no,  he 
loved  his  country  better  than  his  comfort  or  even  his  life  and  by  as 
sisting  in  an  effort  to  restore  its  liberty  put  both  at  stake.  Fortune 
did  not  smile  on  his  undertaking  and  now  the  duke  and  his  family 
wander  as  fugitives  in  a  distant  land  across  the  ocean.  To  us  they 
could  not  come.  Austria's  mighty  hand  would  have  reached  the 
duke  and  then — what  should  they  have  done  here  but  mourn  the 
downfall  of  a  family  once  rich  and  respected  ?  Our  house  has  sunk  ! 
Instead  of  the  riches  of  Uncle  Eberhardt  who  died  in  foreign  lands, 
the  Children  of  Caroline  seem  to  have  inherited  the  evil  seed  spring 
ing  from  the  curses  of  his  letter.  Conrad,  her  grandson  has  gone  to 
America,  and  Jacob,  his  brother,  by  his  vagaries  is  doing  his  best  to 
drag  the  gray  hair  of  his  poor  aunt  with  sorrow  into  the  grave.  Oh  ! 
I  am  weary  !  Welcome  death,  how  long  wilt  thou  tarry  to  lead  me 
through  thy  gates  into  the  regions  where  all  the  friends  of  early 
days  are  dwelling.  Come !  oh,  come,  to  relieve. 

With  this  the  manuscript  closed,  but  Charles  continued  to  gaze 
at  it  as  if  he  could  not  free  nimself  from  the  influence  of  the  spirits 
that  seemed  to  breathe  at  him  from  the  lines.  He  pondered  on 
the  sad  fate  of  both  the  writers  on  the  decline  of  a  family  once 
rich  and  influential.  He  meditated  on  the  strange  fate  that  had 
scattered  its  members  here  and  there,  and,  following  their  wander 
ings  in  his  mind,  visited  the  famous  cities  of  Italy.  Then  all  at 
once  the  name  of  the  duke  who  married  Carlo's  daughter  came 
back  to  his  memory  and  from  that  name  it  skipped  unto  the  fair 
companion  of  last  night's  walk.  Dolores  his  kin,  his  dear,  dear 
cousin. 

The  thought  was  too  exciting  to  suffer  him  in  his  room  any 
longer.  Seizing  his  hat  and  putting  the  manuscript  into  his  pocket, 


152  DOLORES. 

he  rushed  down  stairs  to  cross  the  hall  and  run  through  the  open 
house-door  and  gate  into  the  street.  In  vain  his  wondering  mother 
cried  to  him  that  breakfast  was  ready  and  that  he  should  not  leave 
just  then.  Beckoning  to  her  with  a  waving  hand  he  ran  rather 
than  walked  towards  the  mansion.  Never  yet  had  he  traversed 
the  distance  in  so  short  a  time,  and  when  he  pushed  back  the  gate, 
he  was  a  good  deal  out  of  breath,  partly  from  excitement,  partly 
from  the  exertion  of  the  run.  He  stopped  to  recover  himself  and 
also  to  think  about  the  next  step  he  should  take.  It  was  quite 
early  yet,  between  the  hours  of  seven  and  eight,  and  what  would 
the  servants  say  about  so  early  a  call  ?  He  felt  somewhat  like  the 
hero  of  Cervantes  and  might  have  retraced  his  steps  to  await  a 
fitter  hour,  if  fortunately  the  door  of  the  house  had  not  opened  at 
that  moment  to  admit  to  -the  porch  the  lithe  figure  of  the  girl  he 
was  in  search  of.  This  induced  him  to  remain.  He  let  her  come 
down  the  stairs  and  wander  awhile  on  the  paths  of  the  park  before 
he  stepped  up  to  her  and  made  his  presence  known.  Dolores  started 
at  his  call,  and  seemed  to  wonder  much  at  his  appearance  at  that 
hour.  She  was  on  the  point  of  asking  him  the  reason,  but  a  glance 
into  his  be.aming  eyes  convinced  her  that  something  unusual  had 
occurred.  So  she  inquired  at  once  : 

"  What  is  it,  Charlie  ?     What  else  have  you  discovered  ?  " 

"  So  you  think  that  I  have  discovered  something  else,  Dol  " 

"  I  judge  it  from  your  excited  manners  and  the  unusual  hour  of 
your  visit." 

He  did  not  reply  « t  once,  but  taking  her  hand  led  her  to  a  seat, 
the  very  seat  where  Mr.  Fox  had  adopted  her  and  promised  to  take 
the  lonely  wanderer  to  his  heart.  She  had  told  Charles  about  that 
place  and  hour,  but  they  were  both  too  much  excited  then  to  think 
of  it,  he  in  the  eagerness  of  communicating  his  discovery,  she  in 
the  great  suspense  of  waiting  for  his  words. 

"  Sit  down,  Dolores,"  he  resumed,  pulling  the  faded  manuscript 
from  his  pocket  and  holding  it  up  to  her  gaze.  "  Do  you  see  these 
papers  ?  " 

"  The  will  of  Eberhardt !  "  she  exclaimed,  clasping  her  hands 
and  rising  to  her  feet. 

"No,  not  exactly,"  he  said,  with  a  mysterious  smile  ;  it  is  a 
will,  though  not  the  one  my  uncle  hunts  so  eagerly.  The  gift  it  be- 


DOLORES.  153: 

stows  upon  our  family  is  much  more  precious  than  gold  or  precious 
stones." 

"  Don't  tease  me,  Charlie,  but  tell  me  what  you  mean.  Don't 
you  see  I  am  dying  with  suspense  ?  " 

He  pressed  her  back  upon  the  bench  and  laid  the  manuscript  in 
her  hands. 

"Read,  Dol,  just  read,"  he  said.  But  no  sooner  had  she  laid 
eyes  upon  the  paper  than  he  snatched  it  from  her  again,  and  in  a 
jubilant  voice  exclaimed  : 

"  No!  don't  read  it,  Dol  ;  don't  read  it,  or  I  shall  in  the  mean 
time  get  crazy.  You  want  to  know  what  treasure  has  been  left  to 
us  ?  Well,  listen  ;  it  is  the  best,  dearest,  prettiest  little  cousin  in 
the  world,  and  that  cousin's  name  is  Dolores  di  Gatana.  Does  my 
little  lady  understand  now,  does  she  still  wonder  that  Charles 
Fuchs  got  tipsy  over  the  news  and  don't  know  what  he  is  about  ?  " 

During  these  words  he  had  seized  both  hands  of  the  girl,  and 
pulling  her  up  lifted  her  into  his  arms,  whirling  her  around  and 
stealing  kiss  after  kiss  from  her  rosy  lips.  But  this  was  really  too 
much  for  her.  For  the  first  time  she  tried  to  get  angry  at  her 
friend,  and  attempting  a  genuine  frown  endeavored  to  disengage 
herself  from  his  embrace. 

"  Charlie  !  "  she  said,  with  pouting  lips,  "  have  you  kept  com 
pany  with  your  uncle  in  his  attempts  upon  your  father's  cellar  ?  I 
never  saw  you  so  before,  and  cannot  say  I  like  it  very  much.  Please 
sober  down  and  speak  coherently,  or  I  must  refuse  to  listen  to  your 
queer  expressions." 

Her  attempt  at  indignation  merely  increased  Charlie's  mirth. 
Seizing  her  hand  a  second  time,  in  spite  of  her  opposition,  and  then 
holding  it  a  captive  between  both  of  his,  he  said  : 

"  I  told  you,  Dol,  that  I  am  tipsy — tipsy  with  joy,  though,  not 
with  wine.  Is  it  to  be  wondered  that  a  young  man  loses  his  balance 
of  mind  when  such  a  dear,  sweet  cousin  falls  unexpectedly  to  his 
lot?" 

"  But  I  am  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  your  meaning.  You  found 
a  cousin,  you  say,  and  that  cousin — 

"  Is  nobody  but  my  good  and  loving  Dol,  my  mate,  my  friend, 
my  fellow-student,  my  everything.  Here,  read  this  diary ;  read  it, 


154  DOLORES. 

I  say,  or  you  might  berate  me  a  second  time  and  thereby  exhaust 
my  patience.  You  know  I  can  stand  much — 

"  Yes,  very  much,  she  said,  ironically,  and  then  taking  the  pa 
per  made  a  second  attempt  to  read  the  cause  of  Charlie's  unusual 
merriment. 

"Not  from  the  beginning!  "  he  cried,  "  it  takes  too  long  to  read 
it  all  at  present.  Here,  let  me  show  you  ;  don't  you  see?  Carlo — 
that  is  Carlo  Fuehs,  the  painter — has  risen  to  great  fame  in  Italy  ; 
his  daughter  Maria  is  wooed  by  one  of  the  country  princes,  the 
Dukedi  Gatana." 

"  My  father  !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  glowing  cheeks. 

"  Of  course,  your  father.  Here,  you  can  read  how  you  were 
born  and  how  your  father  lost  rank  and  wealth  in  his  rash  attempt 
to  liberate  his  country." 

"  Why,  it  is  true,  Charlie,  it  is  true,  and  I  am  not  without  rela 
tions,  then.  Besides  my  good  and  noble  foster  father  I  have  real 
kindred,  and  you,  Charlie,  are  my  cousin — you  my  cousin." 

"  Ah  !  who  is  tipsy  now  ?  "he  inquired,  with  a  laugh.  "Madam, 
I  fear  you  have  kept  my  uncle  company  in  his  attempts  upon  my 
father's  cellar.  Please  sober  down  and  speak  coherently,  or — " 

She  interrupted  him. 

"Stop,  Charlie,  stop,  or  I  shall  cry  presently,  and  that,  too, 
without  knowing  whether  it  is  with  joy  or  sadness.  Have  pity  upon 
my  dizzy  head,  Charlie." 

"  I  will,  Dol,  on  one  condition.  You  must  come  this  very  mo 
ment  and  help  me  break  the  happy  news  to  my  mother. ' ' 

"  But,  Charlie,  father  will  soon  be  up  and  miss  me." 

"We  won't  be  long." 

"And  may  I.  tell  him,  too  ?  " 

"Of  course,  Dol,  though  with  a  caution.  I  do  not  know  how 
he  would  receive  his  new  relations." 

"  Why,  yes,  I  am  his  kin  as  well  as  yours.  Oh  !  how  this  makes 
me  happy  !  To  know  that  it  was  after  all  the  voice  of  nature  that 
spoke  in  him  for  the  little  stranger  ;  to  know  that  I  had  real  claims 
upon  his  love  and  protection." 

She  would,  perhaps,  have  gone  on  with  her  exclamations  if  he 
had  not  stopped  her,  reminding  her  of  the  necessity  of  speed.  So 
she  started,  leaning  on  his  arm  with  double  resignation,  or  rather 


DOLORES.  155 

less  restraint,  for  I  doubt  very  much  whether  the  discovery  of  their 
relationship  had  the  effect  of  increasing  her  affection  for  the  youth. 
She  liked  him  well  enough  before,  I  venture  to  suggest,  only  the 
natural  diffidence  of  maidenhood  prevented  the  open  manifestation 
of  her  feelings.  Now  he  was  her  cousin,  and  to  love  a  cousin  is  not 
only  proper,  but  our  bounden  duty,  you  know.  She  may  without 
great  impropriety  press  his  arm — especially  if  he  falls  as  suddenly 
from  the  sky  as  this  one  had  done — she  may  without  reserve  rest 
her  slender  form  on  his  supporting  arm  ;  she  may  even  smile  on 
him  and  turn  her  head  and  look  so  lovingly  into  his  eyes.  Is  that 
not  the  fashion  with  cousins  ?  She  thinks  it  is,  and  is  bound  to  use 
a  privilege  so  new  and  so  delightful.  Now  they  approach  the  cot 
tage.  They  walk  no  longer,  they  fairly  run,  and  fluttering  into  the 
house  like  two  gay  butterflies  surprise  the  family  at  breakfast. 
Dolores  flies  into  Mrs.  Fuchs'  arms  and  kisses  her  until  she  pants 
for  breath,  and  Charles  shakes  his  uncle's  shoulder  until  that  worthy 
cries  for  mercy  and  asks  for  something  strong  to  steady  debilitated 
nerves.  Mr.  Fuchs  and  Henry  in  their  amazement  lay  down  their 
knives  and  forks,  gazing  with  open  mouths  at  the  intruders  and  for 
getting  to  swallow  the  morsels  they  had  entered  for  promotion. 
Finally  the  new  comers  attempted  an  explanation,  but  by  their  ex 
clamations  and  mutual  interruptions  and  interspersed  caresses  made 
matters  rather  worse  than  better.  It  takes  a  good  while  until  the 
truth  dawns  upon  the  company,  but  that  point  once  reached  the  de 
light  of  all  of  them  surpasses  even  their  previous  bewilderment. 
Even  Henry  betrays  signs  of  satisfaction,  and  uncle  Jacob,  striking 
the  table  with  his  fist  so  as  to  make  the  dishes  rattle,  exclaims  : 

"  Hoi  mich  der  Kukuk  !  The  deuce  may  take  me  if  I  didn't 
know  it  yesterday.  I  have  her  grandmother's  likeness,  and  when 
you  see  it  you  will  say  that  it  resembles  her  like  one  egg  does  the 
other." 

"  Yes,  you  did,  uncle,  but  I  claim  the  exclusive  merit  of  discov 
ery,"  Charles  now  remarked.  "  Without  my  literary  inclinations 
and  passion  for  old  manuscripts  we  might  have  groped  in  the  dark 
for  years  to  come.  Therefore,  Dol  is  my  cousin  par  excellence,  and 
the  rest  of  you  come  after  me." 

They  all  laughed  and  were  ready  to  settle  down  a  little  and  en 
joy  the  presence  of  the  newly  found  relative,  but  Dolores  would  not 


156  DOLORES. 

consent  to  stay.  She  had  only  promised  to  remain  a  minute,  she 
said,  and  must  surely  go  to  see  Mr.  Fox  and  make  him  a  partici 
pant  of  the  glad  tidings.  To  this,  however,  uncle  Jacob  objected. 

"  I  have  your  promise  to  keep  my  secret,"  he  admonished  her. 

' '  Xor  shall  I  violate  my  promise,  for  in  stating  my  relationship 
to  him  I  need  not  in  the  least  allude  to  your  secret." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fuchs  looked  rather  dubious. 

"  Dolores,"  the  latter  said,  "  I  have  no  doubt  that  Mr. Fox  will 
rejoice  at  the  fact  that  his  dear  foster  daughter  is  also  his  niece  ; 
but  I  am  not  quite  so  sure  whether  he  will  be  over  anxious  to  re 
ceive  us  all  in  the  capacity  of  kin." 

"  I  know  he  will,"  Dolores  replied  with  beaming  eyes,  "and by 
your  doubt  you  wrong  my  good  foster-father." 

' '  May  be  I  do,  Dol,  but  I  am  almost  certain  that  Mrs.  Fox 
will  see  the  matter  in  a  different  light  and  I  fear  that  instead  of 
mending  your  position  in  the  family  your  communication  will  only 
serve  to  make  it  worse." 

The  countenance  of  Dolores  became  sad  and  pensive.  She 
studied  a  moment  but  after  that  resumed  her  former  cheerful 
ness. 

' '  You  may  be  right,  aunt,"  she  said — she  had  always  called 
Mrs.  Fuchs  aunt,  so  the  discovery  did  not  alter  the  address — "  and 
I  have  resolved  to  leave  it  to  Mr.  Fox.  I  consider  it  my  duty  to 
communicate  the  news  to  him  and  he  may  then  proceed  as  he 
thinks  best.  Indeed  it  would  make  me  miserable  to  know  I  held 
concealed  from  him  matter  of  such  importance." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

NEWS    BROUGHT    HOME. 


She  bid  them  good  bye,  as  if  she  feared  to  meet  with  more  ob 
jections.  Charlie's  company  was  also  refused  and  alone  she  re 
turned  to  her  father's  house.  She  found  him  in  the  garden  where 
he  enjoyed  his  regular  walk  before  breakfast.  He  nodded  when 
he  saw  her  passing  through  the  gate. 


DOLORES.  157 

"Been  out  so  early,  Dol  ?"  he  inquired. 

She  nodded,  and  folding  her  hands  about  his  arm  and  keeping 
step  with  him  replied  : 

"  I  have  been  out  like  the  princesses  of  old,  while  the  dew  was 
on  the  grass  and  the  elfs  were  playing  on  the  flowers.  I  have  seen 
them,  pa,  and  they  have  told  me  wonderful  tales — more  wonderful 
than  any  fairy-tale  my  mother  used  to  tell  me." 

"And  may  I  know  these  wonderful  tales,  Dol?" 

"  Certainly,  pa  ;  that's  what  I  came  to  see  you  for.  A  dutiful 
daughter  ought  to  have  no  secrets  before  her  father." 

"Spin  away,  then,  at  your  yarn,  Dol,  the  breakfast  bell  will 
ring  in  less  than  fifteen  minutes." 

"I  will,  pa,  but  you  must  not  interrupt  me  or  I  may  get  con 
fused." 

"  I'll  try  not  to,  Doll." 

"  So  listen  then.  Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  worthy  burgher 
in  the  land  across  the  sea  who  had  a  competence  and  some  to  spare. 
His  good  wife  bore  him  three  sons  who  were  alike  in  beauty  and 
grace  of  person,  but  different  in  disposition.  While  the  oldest  was 
quiet  in  his  habits,  the  youngest  displayed  a  restlessness  and  roving 
spirit  which  filled  his  mother's  heart  with  apprehension.  The 
second  brother  was  neither  quiet  like  the  oldest,  nor  wild  and  rest 
less  like  the  youngest,  but  partaking  a  little  of  them  both  formed, 
as  it  were,  a  mediating  link  between  them. 

"Now  it  happened  that  in  the  neighbor's  house  a  maiden  of 
great  beauty  held  her  court.  She  was  not  one  of  noble  birth,  but 
also  a  burgher's  daughter  ;  still  many  noble  lords  appeared  to  do 
her  homage.  However,  she  listened  not  to  their  insinuations,  but, 
following  the  dictates  of  her  parents,  and,  as  she  thought,  of  her 
own  heart,  she  reached  her  hand  in  marriage  to  the  burgher's  oldest 
son.  The  wedding  was  celebrated  with  great  joy  and  exultation 
and  the  noise  for  a  while  deadened  the  cry  of  despair  which  issued 
from  the  youngest  brother's  mouth.  He  also  loved  the  handsome 
maiden,  but  battling  with  a  diffidence  so  foreign  to  his  free  and 
open  nature,  had  never  ventured  to  betraj  his  passion  till  it  was  too 
late.  Only  when  a  bride  the  lady  learned  the  nature  of  his  feelings 
toward  her,  and,  frowning  on  the  man  who  would  destroy  her 
peace,  she  bade  him  never  to  repeat  to  her  words  of  such  improper 


158  DOLORES. 

import.  He  left  her  presence  with  a  curse  upon  his  lips,  and  yield 
ing  to  the  dictates  of  his  fiery  nature  fled  from  his  native  home 
never  to  return,  but  to  die  an  exile  in  a  foreign  land.  The  lady 
sympathizing  with  his  bereaA7ed  parents  and  mourning  with  the 
mourners,  allowed  a  voice  to  awake  in  her  heart  which  at  first  she 
construed  as  the  offspring  of  pity.  But  the  voice  grew  louder  every 
day,  and  when  at  last  it  filled  her  bosom  with  a  stifled  yearning  for 
the  fugitive,  she  made  the  terrible  discovery  that  she  had  com 
mitted  a  sad  mistake  in  chosing  the  oldest  brother  for  her  husband. 
She  suffered  long  and  painfully,  but  like  a  dutiful  wife  struggled 
and  battled  against  her  rebellious  heart,  until  at  last  she  had  con 
quered  back  the  peace  of  former  days. 

' '  Of  the  fugitive  she  heard  but  rarely.  The  second  brother  had 
gone  to  meet  him  in  the  wilderness  of  the  new7  world,  where  for 
tune  had  heaped  her  choicest  gifts  upon  the  homeless  wanderer,  as 
if  to  compensate  him  for  his  first  and  fatal  disappointment.  She 
would  have  liked  to  see  him  again,  yet  she  consoled  herself  until 
her  oldest  son,  in  imitation  of  her  uncle,  also  deserted  his  native 
town  aud  crossing  the  Alps  settled  in  the  fair  land  of  Italy.  There 
his  name  became  noted  amongst  the  famous  and  skilled  in  art  and 
his  son  achieved  even  a  greater  reputation  than  his  father.  Princes 
vied  to  do  homage  and  one  of  them  sought  and  received  in  mar 
riage  the  hand  of  the  daughter  of  the  house.  He  took  her  to  his 
princely  domain  and  prepared  for  her  the  life  of  one  that  knows  no 
sorrow,  until  all  at  once  black  clouds  arose  in  the  distant  sky.  A 
fearful  tempest  broke  loose  over  their  devoted  heads.  It  swept 
away  every  trace  of  wealth  and  comfort  and  finally  landed  them  a 
pair  of  beggars  on  the  shores  of  the  new  world.  The  name  of  that 
unfortunate  nobleman  was  di  Gatana." 

"Ah,  Doll,  I  comprehend,  you  are — 

11  No  interruption,  pa.     I  have  your  promise." 

"Exactly,  child  ;  go  on  then,  Doll,  go  on." 

"  I  am  proceeding,  pa.  Let  us  return  to  the  roving  lover  and 
his  brother,  in  order  not  to  lose  sight  of  them.  The  latter  was  put 
as  steward  on  the  wretched  man's  estate,  while  the  owner  hastened 
from  one  country  to  another,  as  if  the  furies  were  allowing  him  no 
rest.  Fearful  tales  were  told  about  his  occupation  and  pursui. 


DOLOKES.  159 

and  even  now  these  legends  live  in  the  mouths  of  the  people  on  the 
coast." 

"1  see,  Dol,  you  have  heard  the  silly  story,  but — 

"  Your  promise,  pa.  We  shall  not  quarrel  on  the  merits  of 
the  tale,  but  rather  turn  our  eye  upon  the  brother,  who,  in  con 
sequence  of  the  happy  combinations  of  his  traits  of  character,  strove 
and  labored  and  came  out  victorious  in  his  struggle  with  the  world. 
Changing  his  name  of  Fuchs  into  that  of  Fox,  he  rose  in  wealth 
and  consideration  and  became  the  founder  of  a  family  whose  name 
has  ever  had  a  clear  ring  throughout  the  state  of  Maine.  His  de- 
scendents  were  all  worthy  men,  but  none  of  them  reached  in  good 
ness,  cleverness  and  kindness  of  heart  the  present  patriarch  of 
Foxville,  my  good,  my  precious  father." 

It  had  cost  Mr.  Fox  much  exertion  to  listen  to  that,  but  finished 
or  not  finished  he  was  bound  not  to  let  the  story  proceed  without 
throwing  in  a  word  himself.  Stopping  short  and  holding  Dolores 
at  arms'  length,  as  if  he  wanted  to  get  a  good  look  at  her,  he  cried  : 

"Now,  Miss,  that's  more  than  enough.  Promise  or  no  promise, 
I  mean  to  have  my  saying  to.  Does  the  vixen  know  that  she  has 
completely  confused  my  head  with  her  long  stories  ?  I  kind  of 
guess  the  meaning  of  that  gossip,  and  yet  I  must  confess  I  hardly 
know — " 

He  looked  so  comical  with  his  dubious  countenance  that  Do 
lores  could  not  help  laughing. 

"  Let  me  perform  the  task  of  solving  the  mystery  for  you,  pa," 
she  said.  "  I'll  state  it  in  the  simple  form  of  a  mathematical  prob 
lem.  Now,  pa,  do  pay  attention  :  When  two  brothers  have  child 
ren,  what  relation  do  the  latter  sustain  to  one  another  ?" 

"  Why,  that  of  cousins,  of  course,  you  vixin." 

"  And  the  children's  children  ?" 

"  Are  cousins  still,  though  in  the  second  degree." 

"  And  their  children  again  ?" 

"Are  cousins,  Dol,  nothing  but  cousins  in  a  homosopathic 
fashion." 

"Then,  worthy  sir,  allow  me  to  present  to  your  consideration 
your  cousin  Dolores  di  Gatana." 

A  moment  he  stared  at  her.     Then  nodding  eagerly  he  cried  : 

' '  That  is  the  kernel  of  the  nut,  indeed  it  is.     And  so  my  good, 


160  DOLORES. 

my  darling  daughter  has  all  at  once  become  a  distant  cousin  in  the 
fourth  degree.     Dol,  I  protest  against  that  change." 

His  voice  showed  a  queer  mixture  of  joy  and  sadness  and  it  is 
likely  that  he  merely  spoke  at  random,  to  prevent  himself  from 
falling  a  victim  to  the  deep  emotion  which  had  seized  him.  But 
Dolores  took  it  differently.  Her  excited  mind  had  merely  heard 
the  melancholy  touch  in  her  companion's  voice,  and  throwing  her 
self  into  his  arms  with  an  unexpected  vehemence,  that  almost 
made  him  stagger,  she  said  : 

"  No,  pa,  there  must  not  be  a  change  from  that.  I  want  to  re 
main  your  loving,  dutiful  daughter.  Yet  I  can  hardly  tell  how 
much  I  wyas  delighted  to  know  that  you  and  I  are  kin,  for  it  ex 
plains  to  me  why  you  and  I  wrere  drawn  together  from  the  start. 
Moreover,  it  lightens  a  little  the  burden  under  which  a  conscious 
ness  of  endless  obligations  to  my  benefactor  made  me  stagger.  I  am 
your  cousin  now,  you  see,  and  cousins  have  a  legal  claim  of  mutual 
protection." 

"I  see. from  your  face  that  you  are  joking,  Dol,  else  I  might 
feel  inclined  to  lecture  you  the  first  time  since  our  connection. 
You  speak  of  obligations,  while  in  reality  I  am  your  everlasting 
debtor  for  all  the  rays  of  happiness  which  ever  since  have  lit  my 
loneliness  and  sadness." 

"  AVell,  pa,  I  say  nothing  more  ;  let  us  exchange  receipted  bills 
and  then  commence  a  new  account." 

"Agreed,  Dol;  but  there  is  the  breakfast  bell.  Come,  let  us 
rapidly  inform  our  sovereign  Lady.  I  am  very  curious  to  know 
how  she  will  receive  the  news  and  whether  it  will  make  the  flowers 
spring  up  within  her  frosty  heart." 

Dolores  started. 

"Pa,"  she  suddenly  cried,  stopping  him  short,  "your  words  re 
mind  me  of  the  fact  that  you  interrupted  my  story  and  that  I  never 
finished  it." 

"True,  Dol,  but  I  know  the  most  important  part  and  can  wait 
for  the  end  till  after  breakfast." 

"The  most  important,  pa?  How  do  you  know  that  ?  Indeed 
I  must  detain  you,  even  at  the  risk  of  letting  the  coffee  get  cold." 

"  Well,  child,  hurry  then.  I  have  spoiled  you  I  know  and  you 
must  have  your  way." 


DOLORES.  161 

"  Exactly,  pa  ;  I'll  not  engage  you  longer  than  a  minute.  The 
lady  had  another  son  besides  the  one  that  went  to  Italy.  He  stayed 
at  home  and,  marrying  a  maiden  of  his  native  town,  raised  a  fami 
ly  and  struggled  to  maintain  the  ancient  glory  of  the  house.  But 
it  was  all  in  vain  ;  the  means  and  the  influence  of  the  family 
dwindled  from  generation  to  generation  and  at  last  the  old  home 
stead  had  to  be  sold.  Before  this  happened  one  of  the  two  broth 
ers,  representing  the  family  at  present,  in  consequence  of  a  quarrel 
stirred  by  his  younger  brother,  left  his  native  town  and  turning  his 
steps  towards  the  great  republic  of  the  West  settled  in  the  little 
town  of  Foxville.  There— 

"  But,  Dol,  that  goes  beyond  the  bounds  of  reality.  Your  story 
is  more  romantic  than  the  wildest  fairy  tale." 

Mr.  Fox  said  this  with  more  excitement  than  he  had  even  mani 
fested  at  the  first  discovery.  This  is  easily  explained.  A  man  is 
more  exposed  to  the  danger  of  intoxication  at  the  second  bottle 
than  the  first  and  Dolores  construed  her  father's  excitement  in  that 
way. 

"That  is  not  my  fault,  pa,"  she  said,  shrugging  her  shoulders 
and  dragging  him  towards  the  house,  "but  you  haven't  told  me 
yet  what  you  think  about  the  other  relations." 

"Relations!  yes,  relations,"  Mr.  Fox  exclaimed,  allowing  his 
head  to  rise  and  fall  in  regular  intervals.  ' '  They  are  all  my  rela 
tions  and  glad  am  I  of  it,  of  course,  for  honester  people  than  they 
aint  to  be  found  in  the  United  States." 

' '  There  !  I  thought  so  !"  Dol  exclaimed,  her  face  bearing  an 
expression  of  triumph. 

"What,  Dol?" 

"That  you  wouldn't  hesitate  to  acknowledge  our  good  friends 
as  your  kin." 

"Of  course  I  don't,  Dol ;  you  did  me  but  justice  in  that  sup 
position." 

"But  Mrs.  Fuchs  had  one,  too,  pa.  She  thinks  Mrs.  Fox 
wouldn't  be  quite  so  delighted  with  the  change  as  I." 

His  countenance  became  thoughtful. 

"  She  may  be  right,  Dol,"  he  said  with  a  nod,  "  but  that  cannot 
alter  my  part  in  the  programme.  I  am  bound  to  inform  my  family 
of  their  new  acquisitions  and  the  sooner  they  receive  the  informa- 

II 


162  DOLORES. 

tion  the  better  it  will  be.  But,  child,  one  more  question  before  we 
enter.  Where  did  you  all  at  once  collect  so  much  information. 
Did  you  turn  somnambulist  or  establish  a  regular  telegraph  line 
with  beings  from  a  higher  sphere  ?" 

"  Xot  at  all,  pa.  My  channel  is  rather  low  and  commonplace. 
Last  night  a  brother  of  our  Mr.  Fuchs  suddenly  made  his  appear 
ance  at  his  brother's  door  and  after  eating  and  drinking  like  a  hero, 
announced  himself  as  Mr.  Jacob  Fuchs,  from  beyond  the  sea,  a 
knight  without  much  courage  but  with  great  love  for  everything 
that  can  administer  unto  the  wants  of  the  stomach." 

' '  A  brother  of  Mr.  Fuchs,  you  say  ?  Why,  wonder  over  won 
der  !  If  this  week  continues  as  it  has  commenced  it  will  surely  be 
come  the  most  momentous  one  of  my  life." 

Is  Saul  amongst  the  prophets  ?  Poor  Mr.  Fox  !  Does  an  in 
ward  voice  whisper  to  you  of  coming  evil !  Does  the  traitor's 
wicked  purpose  throw  its  shadow  across  your  path  ? 

Without  further  remarks  they  stepped  into  the  house.  Mrs. 
Fox  and  the  children  were  already  engaged  at  their  meal. 

"Caroline,  you  must  excuse  our  tardiness,"  Mr.  Fox  addressed 
his  wife,  '  *  on  account  of  very  strange  discoveries  I  have  made.  I 
would  ask  you  to  guess  their  nature,  if  I  wrere  not  convinced  before 
hand  that  you  would  never  find  out." 

A  guilty  conscience  is  easily  alarmed.  Mrs.  Fox  was  concealing 
things  from  her  husband  and  the  thought  that  her  conduct  had 
been  discovered  was  very  natural.  She  grew  pale  and  even  had  to 
seize  the  table  for  support.  Mr.  Fox  observed  her  confusion.  He 
nodded  pleasantly  and  said  : 

"  Well,  Caroline,  you  seem  to  have  an  idea  after  all.  You  get 
excited,  I  notice,  and  well  you  may,  for  I  did  not  fare  any  better." 

She  trembled  worse  than  before,  but  her  lips  remained  closed. 

'  'Why,  what  is  the  matter,  madame  ?"  Fox  inquired,  "you 
surely  are  getting  nervous.  I  never  knew  that  you  took  so  much 
interest  in  Dolores." 

"  Dolores  !"  Mrs.  Fox  breathed  more  freely.  Then  her  hus 
band  did  not  allude  to  her,  and  yet  she  had  nearly  betrayed  herself. 
For  a  moment  she  hated  the  girl  as  much  as  ever. 

"  Dolores  !"  she  gasped,  betraying  in  her  features  the  nature  of 


DOLORES.  163 

her  feelings.     "What  of  her  ?     I  expected  from  your  excited  mien 
that  some  accident,  indeed  I  hardly  know 1  thought — 

"No,  no,  Caroline,"  he  answered  more  softly  than  he  had  been 
wont  to  speak  to  her  lately.  '  'Rest  easy  as  to  that.  I  do  not  know 
of  any  accidents  whatever.  Who  should  have  met  with  one  ?  We 
are  all  present  excepting  Dick  and  he ' 

Mr.  Fox  left  the  sentence  unfinished,  but  his  face  revealed  the 
thought  which  his  lips  had  refused  to  communicate.  His  brow  be 
came  clouded  and  his  lips  compressed,  thereby  bestowing  upon  his 
face  the  expression  of  energy  and  decision  which  we  generally 
missed  in  it. 

If  Mr.  Fox  expected  to  be  interrogated  by  his  wife  he  was  mis 
taken.  She  had  learned  that  her  husband's  discoveries  did  not  re 
late  to  her  but  to  the  girl  whom,  at  best,  she  had  regarded  with  in 
difference  and  therefore  abstained  from  all  further  manifestations 
of  curiosity. 

Not  so  with  Lucy.  We  have  much  neglected  that  young  lady 
in  our  story.  She  also  had  grown  and  developed  ;  but  there  had 
been  hardly  any  change  in  the  character  of  her  appearance.  There 
were  the  same  gentle  features,  the  same  blue  eyes  and  yellow 
curls.  The  bloom  on  her  lips  and  cheeks  had  deepened  and  her 
form  was  approaching  the  embonpoint  which  her  childhood  had 
predicted  and  which  ceases  to  be  a  virtue  as  soon  as  it  passes  a  cer 
tain  limit.  This  limit  Lucy  had  not  reached  ;  she  still  moved  with 
grace  and  ease,  embodying  the  idea  of  what  is  called  a  "sweet  girl." 
She  now  was  curious  to  know  the  news  of  her  father,  because  they 
concerned  her  friend  Dolores.  Ever  since  her  mother  had  ceased 
to  restrict  the  intercourse  of  the  girls  a  fast  friendship  had  sprung 
up  between  them,  in  spite  of  the  difference  in  their  character  and 
intellect.  While  Dolores,  with  her  keen  penetration  and  energy, 
formed  the  positive  pole,  and  Lucy,  with  her  gentle  and  yielding 
disposition,  supplied  the  negative.  She  moved,  as  it  were,  planet 
like  around  the  sun,  receiving  from  him  light  and  warmth.  Still, 
unlike  the  relation  between  sun  and  earth,  that  of  the  girl  showed 
no  different  seasons.  There  was  no  heat,  no  drought,  no  icy  cold 
ness  ;  but  the  current  of  their  friendship  ran  on  with  even  tenor- 
Lucy  not  only  loved  Dolores,  she  also  looked  up  to  her  ;  she  re 
spected,  admired  and  even  worshiped  her,  and  anything  concern. 


164  DOLORES. 

ing  her  idol  was  of  course  received  with  lively  interest.  So  taking 
up  her  father's  interrupted  sentence,  she  said  : 

"  And  he  is  not  likely  to  meet  with  accidents.  Like  a  cat  he 
always  lights  upon  his  feet  in  case  of  a  fall." 

"  You  don't  flatter  your  brother,"  Mrs.  Fox  said  with  a  touch 
of  displeasure. 

"Nor  is  that  at  all  necessary,"  Mr.  Fox  suggested,  speaking 
rapidly.  "If  he  had  been  flattered  less  he  would  fare  better  now 
than  he  does." 

Lucy  saw  the  danger  of  an  altercation.  To  avoid  it  she  ex 
claimed  : 

"But  the  news,  father,  the  news!  It  is  hardly  fair  to  hold 
them  out  in  prospect  and  then  refuse  to  make  them  known." 

•'True,  child,"  Mr.  Fox  exclaimed,  his  face  brightening  with 
the  recollection  of  Dolores'  communications.  "  I  am  in  duty  bound 
to  let  the  cat  out  of  the  bag." 

"  But  I  don't  want  a  cat,  father;  you  know  I  don't  like  cats." 

"  But  supposing  I  substitute  a  cousin  for  the  cat  ?" 

"  A  cousin,  pa,  what  do  you  mean?  " 

"A  bran  new  cousin,  child,  and  such  a  cousin." 

"  Wouldn't  you  like  to  have  a  cousin,  Lucy  ?  " 

"  Why  yes,  I  would,  but  that  is  an  idle  wish,  for  it  will  never 
be  realized,  and  I  am  si  ill  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  at  what  you  are 
hinting." 

"  Well,  Lucy,  didn't  I  tell  you  plainly  that  I  have  found  a 
cousin  for  you  ?  How  would  you  fancy  Dol  for  one  ?" 

1 '  I  should  be  delighted  with  her,  pa." 

"  Well,  take  her,  then,  for  she  is  your  cousin.  Caroline,  what 
do  you  think  ?  The  foster  daughter  who  entered  our  house  a 
stranger  to  shed  light  and  sunshine  over  it,  has  turned  out  a  rela 
tive,  a  real  relative. 

"  Pa,  you  are  joking,"  Lucy  answered  for  her  mother. 

"  No,  indeed,  1  am  in  dead  earnest.  Her  mother  descends  from 
a  brother  of  our  ancestor.  She  is  a  cousin  in  good  faith,  though  not 
in  the  first  degree." 

Lucy  was  delighted.  She  rose  and  embraced  her  new  relation, 
and  kissing  her  tenderly  exclaimed  : 


DOLORES.  165 

"  Oh  !  I  am  so  glad  I  have  a  cousin,  a  real  live  cousin,  and  bet 
ter  still,  I  have  my  Dol  for  one." 

Dolores  smiled. 

"I  don't  know  whether  I  ought  to  feel  flattered  or  not,"  she 
said.  "You  seem  very  willing  to  renounce  the  sister  just  to  gain  a 
distant  cousin." 

"Dol,  shame'on  you,"  she  cried  ;  "you  know  I  didn't  mean  it 
that  way.  I  love  you  doubly  now,  once  as  a  sister  and  secondly  as 
a  cousin.  Indeed,  I  shall  have  my  heart  so  full  of  you  that  I  must 
build  an  addition  to  it. ' ' 

While  the  girls  laughed  at  this  remark  Mrs.  Fox  inquired  : 

"  That  is  quite  a  romance,  sir  ;  may  I  ask  where  you  got  the 
material  for  the  plot  ?  ' ' 

"Yes,  madam,"  he  replied,  somewhat  vexed  at  her  derisive 
tone,  "  you  can  be  furnished  with  the  source  as  well  as  with  the 
proof.  It  does  exist  in  writings  of  the  most  conclusive  character, 
and  since  you  seem  to  be  so  much  delighted  at  this  acquisition,  I 
feel  inclined  to  intimate  that  there  is  a  certain  prospect  of  a  further 
increase  of  our  kindred. ' ' 

"  How  fortunate  for  you,  who  claims  to  be  a  philantropist.  We, 
on  the  other  hand,  shall  suffer  from  the  access,  since  by  a  simple 
rule  of  arithmetic  the  quotient  is  reduced  in  just  proportion  to  the 
increase  of  the  divisor." 

"  No  danger,  madam  ;  the  heart  is  like  the  magnet,  the  greater 
the  weight  it  carries  the  greater  also  its  strength.  But  ain't  you 
anxious  to  learn  the  other  names  ?  ' ' 

"Ladies  are  decried  as  being  curious;  a  denial  on  my  part 
would,  therefore,  avail  me  nothing." 

"  That's  what  I  call  an  unconditional  surrender.  Now,  if  I  tell 
you  that  the  family  name  of  Dol's  mother  was  Fuchs,  can  you  guess 
the  rest?" 

Mrs.  Fox  started. 

"Edward,"  she  said,  with  dignity,  "if  you  confine  your  joke 
to  Dolores  it  can  be  borne,  because  it  does  not  alter  facts  ;  but  if 
you  go  beyond  this  and  threaten  to  draw  your  factory  hands  into 
the  family  circle,  I  must  decidedly  object." 

"1  shall  draw  nobody  in  that  has  no  business  there,  Caroline ; 
but  you  can't  expect  me  to  be  able  to  undo  established  facts." 


166  DOLORES. 

"  Aiid  these  facts  ;  will  you  have  the  kindness  to  enlighten  me 
as  to  their  nature?  " 

"  Of  course  I  will,"  Mr.  Fox  replied,  and  then  proceeded  to 
state  briefly  the  history  of  the  family  from  which  his  own  had 
sprung.  Mrs.  Fox  could  not  help  being  impressed  with  the  correct 
ness  of  the  statements  ;  but  yet  her  aristocratic  mind  rebelled  against 
the  thought  of  receiving  on  terms  of  intimacy  a  family  who  thus 
far  had  been  counted  among  the  hands  employed  by  her  husband  in 
his  factory. 

"And  what — what  does  Mr.  Fuchs  think  of  this  ?  "  she  inquird, 
addressing  herself  to  the  girl  who  also  had  the  presumption  to  press 
theese  claims  upon  her  delicately  organized  mind. 

"  He  was  loth  to  have  me  tell  Mr.  Fox  at  all,"  Dolores  replied, 
with  emphasis. 

"  And  why  did  you  see  fit  to  disobey  his  wishes  ?  -' 

"  Because  I  felt  unwilling  to  keep  so  important  a  matter  from 
his  knowledge.  Fear  nothing,  madam  ;  if  you  take  no  measures  to 
open  connections  with  the  family  they  on  their  part  will  be  very 
slow  to  encroach  on  you." 

"  That  shows  that  Mr.  Fuchs  and  his  wife  are  very  sensible  peo 
ple  in  their  way.  They  know  that  we  in  our  position  can  never 
think  of  receiving  them  on  terms  of  equality,  and  therefore  have 
the  good  sense  to  preserve  the  proper  distance.  I  do  sincerely  hope, 
Mr.  Fox,  that  you  will  not  suffer  yourself  to  be  surpassed  by  them 
in  their  sense  of  propriety." 

Having  said  this  she  arose,  and  dropping  a  distant  courtesy 
withdrew  from  the  room. 

"  I  thought  that  much,"  Mr.  Fox  remarked,  with  a  look  of  un 
derstanding  at  Dolores.  "  and  can  therefore  hardly  say  that  I  am 
disappointed.  She  may  have  her  pleasure  ;  if  she  refuses  to  recog 
nize  established  facts  she  may  take  the  consequences." 

"But,  pa,"  Dolores  remonstrated,  "I  hardly  think  that  you 
would  do  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fuchs  a  favor  by  drawing  them  forcibly 
into  your  house.  They  would  not  only  derive  no  pleasure  from 
such  a  course,  but  actually  suffer  from  manifestations  of  neglect  or 
contempt  in  which  Mrs.  Fox  would  probably  not  be  sparing." 

Mr.  Fox  reflected  awhile. 

"  You  are  right,  Dol, "  he  said  at  last,  "  I  shall  not  force  mat- 


DOLORES.  167 

ters,  but  leave  everything  to  time  and  circumstances.  Still,  as  for 
myself  I  cannot  resist  the  temptation  to  drop  in  at  the  cottage  to 
shake  hands  with  cousin  Conrad  and  to  see  the  fellow  from  across 
the  ocean.  Good  by,  children  ;  I  shall  be  back  before  the  hour  of 
dinner." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

A   CRISIS     APPROACHING. 

"  Captain  Butler  has  arrived  and  cast  anchor  in  the  cemetery," 
George  ci  ied  to  Wood  the  same  morning,  rushing  into  the  office 
with  excited  mien  and  trying  to  recover  breath.  "I  have  nearly 
run  myself  to  death  from  the  wish  of  imparting  the  news  as  early  as 
possible." 

' '  And  by  your  haste  and  excitement  you  have  drawn  the  atten 
tion  of  spies  upon  your  movements.  George,  can  you  never  learn 
that  self-control  is  the  first  indispensible  duty  of  any  man  who 
wishes  to  rise  above  his  fellow  beings  ?  " 

"  To  preach  is  easier  than  to  practice." 

' '  I  practice  what  I  preach.  IS  ever  through  all  this  time  have 
you  seen  me  give  way  to  passion  in  such  a  measure  as  to  allow  the 
world  an  insight  into  my  schemes.  But  that  is  idle.  I  may  as  well 
proceed  to  give  you  further  instructions.  When  did  the  brig  ar 
rive  ?  " 

"After  midnight." 

"Then  by  this  evening  the  boxes  will  all  be  in  the  cave.  George, 
have  a  boat  ready  to  take  us  there,  but  let  nobody  but  you  and  I 
know  of  our  errand." 

"  I  will  not,  sir." 

"  One  of  the  drafts  I  was  expecting  has  come  this  morning  ;  the 
other  may  be  here  by  to-day's  mail.  We  cannot  act  before  it  is  in 
our  hands.  It  will  not  do  to  leave  a  sum  of  $6,000  behind  us  if  we 
can  secure  it  by  waiting  a  little." 

"  But  waiting  may  endanger  all." 


168  DOLORES. 

"  Very  true,  still  I  cannot  bear  the  thought  of  leaving  such  a 
sum  in  his  clutches.  I  am  not  satisfied  with  crippling  him,  I  want 
his  ruin" 

George  looked  at  him. 

"  Richard,"  he  said,  with  your  permission  I  should  like  to  ask 
a  question.  What  makes  you  hate  this  man  so  much  ?  " 

Wood  shook  his  head. 

"  I  would  rather  not  inform  you.  It  has  nothing  to  do  with  our 
project,  and  if  you  get  your  stipulated  share  that  is  all  you  can  in 
reason  ask." 

George  did  not  answer. 

"Will  you  please  go  and  see  whether  the  mail  has  come?  ' 
Wood  resumed.  "  In  case  the  letter  in  question  has  arrived  we  need 
hesitate  no  longer  but  may  fix  the  hour  the  coming  night.  What 
do  you  think  ?  " 

"Nothing  at  all,  sir,  I  leave  it  all  to  you.  I'll  run  to  the  office 
now  and  see  whether  the  mail  is  in." 

He  left  and  ten  minutes   afterwards   returned   with  a  letter, 

swinging  it  triumphantly  in  his  hand.   It  bore  the  stamp  of  B , 

and  Wood's  face  lit  with  an  ugly  scowl  when  he  said  : 

"  That's  the  right  one,  I  thought  it  would  come  to-day.  That 
puts  a  couple  of  thousands  more  in  the  pocket  of  each  of  us." 

"Is  there  anything  else  to  be  done  during  the  day  ?  " 

"  No,  sir ;  only  don't  fail  to  be  at  the  coast  this  evening  at  eight 
o'clock." 

"  I  thought  you  told  me  ten  before  " 

"  I  did,  but  it  strikes  me  that  if  we  go  so  late  too  great  a  por 
tion  of  the  night  would  be  consumed  by  the  visit.  Indeed  if  it 
were  not  for  the  papers  I  want  the  captain  to  sign,  the  visit  would 
be  altogether  unnecessary." 

"  But  supposing  you  visit  him  during  the  day,  couldn't  you  in 
that  instance  get  your  receipt  as  well  ?" 

"I  cannot  leave  during  the  day,  George,"  the  superintendent 
replied  with  a  slight  embarrassment. 

"There  are  several  things  which  need  my  presence,  and  in 
fact—" 

"  And  what  do  y«u  think  of  my  going  ?" 

"It would  do  well  enough,  excepting  the  possibility  of  the  cap- 


DOLORES.  169 

tain's  refusal.  Having  once  refused  you,  he  might  become  sus 
picious  and  refuse  me  as  well.  On  the  whole  I  think  it  will  be 
best  to  go  at  eight  o'clock." 

"Very  well,  sir,  and  when  do  you  propose  to  settle  our  ac 
counts?" 

Wood  smiled  an  ugly  smile. 

"  Why,  George,  what  a  careful  mode  of  doing  business  you 
have  adopted  all  at  once.  You  never  before  evinced  such  zeal  in 
straightening  up  accounts." 

"  Perhaps  I  didn't  sir,  in  the  service  of  Mr.  Fox  ;  but  now,  you 
know,  I  am  minding  my  own  business." 

"  Exactly,  George,  nor  do  I  blame  you.  I  shall  divide  with 
you  before  we  start  on  our  errand.  In  fact  we  might  proceed  at 
once,  only  Mr.  Fox  might  come  in  the  meantime  and  want  to  see 
letters." 

"The  deuce  !  if  he  should  take  it  into  his  head  to  appropriate 
them." 

"  That  is  not  likely  as  he  is  not  in  the  habit  of  doing  so.  In 
case  he  sees  the  money  he  may  desire  me  to  settle  at  once  the  ar 
rears  of  the  laborers.  In  that  I  can  accomodate  him,  commencing 
with  the  liquidation  of  your  account  and  mine.  If  that  should  take 
all  the  money  who  could  complain  ?" 

Wood  laughed  at  his  remark  and  George  followed  suit.  All  at 
once,  howrever,  they  noticed  Mr.  Fox  through  the  office  window  and 
sobering  down  to  their  daily  routine,  awaited  his  appearance. 

He  was  in  a  very  good  humor,  perhaps  the  result  of  the  visit  he 
had  just  paid  to  the  cottage  ;  at  any  rate  Mr.  Wood  had  not  seen 
him  so  gay  for  a  good  while.  Mr.  Fox  was  so  easily  pleased  that 
the  manager  found  no  difficulty  in  securing  his  approval  to  the 
various  propositions  he  offered  as  well  as  his  endorsement  on  the 
drafts  in  question  necessary  for  collection. 

"  Just  as  you  please,  Richard,"  he  said,  "just  as  you  please. 
We  are  over  our  hard  spell  now,  and  everything  is  prosperous. 
With  due  respect  to  your  talents  don't  you  think  that  I  deserve  a 
little  credit  for  the  way  I  managed  things  ?" 

"Of  course  I  do,  Edward,  and  you  will  recollect  that  I  was  the 
first  to  acknowledge  my  mistake  and  your  better  judgment.  You 
managed  admirably." 


170  DOLORES. 

"  Yes,  yes,  Richard,  1  did  tolerably  well  ;  but  then  I  must  not 

forget  that  it  is  chieflly  due  to ;  tut,  tut,  what  am  I  gossipping 

about  ?  I  think  my  mind  is  wandering  this  morning.  It  wouldn't 
be  so  very  strange  after  all  the  adventures  I  met  with.  I  tell  you, 
Richard — ,  no,  I  won't  tell  you  either,  at  least  not  now.  I  must 
first  sober  down  a  little  to  guard  against  my  talking  nonsense  and 
thereby  losing  the  trifle  of  respect  I  have  secured  from  you  for 
clever  management." 

With  this  he  hastened  from  the  room,  leaving  the  two  plotters 
at  loss  to  comprehend  him. 

"  What  does  it  mean  ?"  George  inquired.  ''He  talks  as  if  he  had 
got  tipsy  early  in  the  morning." 

"  It  isn't  that,  he  never  drinks  anything  before  his  dinner." 

"  Some  unexpected  pleasure  then,  but  of  what  sort?" 

"  Who  cares?  It  is  enough  for  us  that  his  excitement  greatly 
facilitates  our  measures.  I  venture  to  say  the  dunce  will  not  re 
turn  to-day,  and  we  may  as  well  divide  our  spoils  at  once.  Are 
you  satisfied  regarding  our  last  settlement  ?" 

"Certainly,  Richard,  it  was  very  satisfactory." 

"So  much  the  better.  Now  in  regard  to  these  checks,  they  are 
not  equal,  one  calling  for  the  payment  of  six  thousand  dollars,  the 
other  for  that  of  five.  In  case  I  give  you  the  larger  check  will  you 
pay  me  the  difference  in  cash  ?" 

"  Why,  no,  Mr.  Wood,  I  should  not  like  to  do  that." 

"Not  do  it,  George?"  the  other  inquired  somewhat  astonished. 
"  Is  not  the  note  endorsed  ?" 

"It  is,  sir." 

"  Does  that  not  make  it  as  good  as  cash  ?" 

"It  does,  to  any  one  who  has  a  chance  of  collecting  it." 

"  Why,  George,  you  have  the  time." 

"Not  if  you  want  me  to  start  for  P without  delay." 

"  O,  you  will  have  time  to  stop  long  enough  in  town  to  cash 
it." 

"  But  they  might  hesitate  to  trust  me  in  the  bank  with  such  a 
sum.  You  know  I  never  drew  money  before." 

"But,  George,  that  objection  is  just  as  applicable  to  the  smaller 
check." 


DOLORES.  171 

"  It  is,  sir,  and  that  is  the  reason  why  I  am  forced  to  refuse  the 
acceptance  of  either." 

Wood's  face  darkened. 

"You  get  all  at  once  very  particular,"  he  said,  "but  if  you 
think  that  I  will  humor  such  notions  you  are  much  mistaken.  You 
say  you  refuse  the  smaller  draft  and  five  hundred  dollars  in  cash  ?' 

"I  do,  sir." 

'  'But  you  forget  that  by  your  obstinacy  you  run  the  risk  of  get 
ting  nothing." 

"  No  greater  risk  than  you,  sir.  You  may  rest  assured,  Mr. 
Wood,  that  I  should  take  good  care  in  such  a  case  to  place  the 
money  at  a  safe  distance  from  your  grasp." 

Wood  looked  at  his  accomplice  with  undisguised  amazement. 
This  was  the  first  instance  where  the  lad  had  shown  any  will  of  his 
own,  and  when  the  veiled  menace  of  betrayal  reached  his  ears,  he 
did  not  know  whether  he  should  trust  them.  Still  George  was  right 
and  had  Wood  completely  at  his  mercy.  How  fortunate  that  the 
superintendent  had  not  intrusted  his  other  secret  to  the  fellow  as 
well.  Thanks  to  his  prudence  that  portion  of  the  programme  was 
safe  at  least.  But  as  to  the  money  question,  Wood  saw  no  way  of 
forcing  George  into  compulsion,  and  with  that  sagacity  and  rapid 
penetration  so  peculiar  to  his  character  he  saw  at  once  that  it  would 
come  with  a  better  grace  to  yield  at  «nce  than  to  let  the  final  con 
sent  appear  as  the  result  of  further  menaces. 

"  George,"  he  said  all  at  once,  changing  the  nature  of  his  voice 
and  forcing  himself  into  a  smile,  *  *  I  make  you  a  compliment.  You 
are  fast  reaching  your  maturity  and  exact  your  claims  from  me 
with  a  sharpness  which  allows  little  doubt  of  your  capacity  to  en 
force  your  purpose.  If  you  refuse  the  draft,  I  shall,  of  course,  be 
forced  to  pay  your  share  in  cash,  although  that  will  necessitate  my 
staying  here  another  day." 

"  Exactly,  sir,  and  I  like  that  arrangement  better,  because  it 
gives  me  more  time  to  reach  P ." 

More  time  to  ruin  and  betray  me,  or  at  least  to  discover  my 
trail,"  Mr.  Wood  thought  to  himself.  "But  wait,  I  shall  take 
measures  to  counteract  all  treacherous  mines  that  you  may  spring 
on  me." 

•*  Why,  that  is  true,"  he  said  aloud,  stooping  to  open  the  safe 


172  DOLORES. 

and  taking  from  it  a  large  number  of  one  hundred  dollar  notes. 
"  Here,  George,  is  your  money,  and  we  are  quits  now,  are  we 
not  ?" 

"  Exactly,  sir." 

"  And  you  are  satisfied  ?" 

''Fully  so." 

"And  you  agree  to  take  the  information  to  the  revenue  of 
ficers?" 

"  I  shall  faithfully  execute  your  commission." 

"Very  well,  George.  XI  am  compelled  to  rely  upon  your 
promise.  I  would  rather  have  you  act  from  motives  of  attachment 
than  of  fear.  But  this  much  I  say,  woe  to  you  if  you  betray  the 
trust  I  put  in  you." 

George's  face  blanched  a  little,  but  collecting  himself,  he  said  : 

"Fear  nothing,  sir,  I  shall  not  disappoint  you." 

"  So  much  the  better  for  you.  I'll  have  to  leave  you  now,  and 
may  be  absent  for  an  hour  or  two.  Please  have  an  eye  to  things, 
for  I  must  not  be  guilty  of  neglect  during  the  waning  hours  of  our 
administration." 

He  left  the  office,  and,  after  arranging  his  attire,  took  the  road 
to  the  mansion.  On  arriving  there  he  found  that  Mr.  Fox  had 
gone  to  the  parsonage  with  the  girls,  and  that  Mrs.  Fox  alone  was 
at  home.  This  suited  his  purpose  and  sending  his  card  to  her,  he 
stepped  into  the  parlor  to  await  her  coming.  Throwing  himself 
into  an  arm  chair,  he  gave  himself  up  to  the  host  of  tumultuous 
thoughts  that  were  crowding  through  his  brain.  His  plans  had 
reached  a  climax.  What  he  had  hoped  and  worked  and  struggled 
for  was  on  the  point  of  becoming  a  reality.  Ah  !  it  was  well,  for 
he  felt  that  his  mind  could  not  have  borne  much  longer  the  heavy 
straine  upon  it.  Fear  and  hope  and  glorious  expectation  were 
struggling  for  the  mastery  within  his  breast,  and  he  found  the 
greatest  difficulty  in  preserving  the  outward  calmness  that  was  so 
indispensable  to  secure  success. 

When  Mrs.  Fox  entered  the  room  he  sprang  up  and  approached 
her  with  a  haste  that  started  her. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Richard?"  she  said,  blushing  at  the  fer 
vor  with  which  he  carried  her  hand  to  his  lips,  "you  seem  very 
much  excited." 


DOLORES.  173 

"No  wonder,  Caroline.  The  hour  has  come  when  I  shall  take 
you  with  me,  as  the  precious  jewel  which  the  owner  hides  from  the 
vulgar  gaze  of  the  curious  crowd." 

Her  hand  quivered  in  his.  Laying  the  other  that  was  free  up 
on  her  bosom,  she  replied  : 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Richard?  Must  I  go  with  you  ;  must  I 
leave  the  home  of  my  children  ?  Much  as  I  love  you  I  tremble  at 
the  thought." 

"And  yet  you  have  to  learn  to  face  it,  for  I  have  chosen  the 
coming  night  for  the  time  of  our  flight." 

' '  Impossible  !"  she  cried,  ' '  I  cannot  leave  so  quickly  ;  why  did 
you  not  give  me  longer  warning  ?" 

"  From  motives  of  affection,  Caroline.  I  knew  that  you  would 
worry  all  the  time,  and  perhaps  by  worrying  betray  our  secret. 
Besides,  you  knew  that  it  would  come  to  this,  and  if  you  really 
love  me  as  you  say  you  do  you  will  without  much  difficulty  suc 
ceed  in  severing  such  bonds  as  tie  you  to  this  house." 

"And  my  dear  poor  children,  ami  never  to  see  them  any 
more  ?" 

' '  Not  for  the  present,  Caroline.  What  future  years  may  have 
in  store  we  do  not  know  and  it  would  be  idle  to  make  conjectures. 
Come  now,  dear  Caroline>  take  courage  ;  you  ought  to  delight  in 
this  opportunity  of  showing  your  love  to  me." 

"You  cannot  doubt  that  love,  Richard,  after  so  many  proofs 
given  at  the  cost  of  my  tranquility.  But  what  do  you  propose  to 
do?" 

"I  shall  be  at  the  gate  at  12  o'clock  to  receive  you  and  conduct 
you  to  the  buggy  which  will  be  waiting  in  the  neighborhood.  We 
shall  at  once  drive  to  the  station  and  be  in  time  to  take  the  early 
train  for  the  border.  Once  in  Canada  we  shall  find  little  difficulty 
in  concealing  our  trail  and  after  a  while  take  the  steamer  to  Liver 
pool.  In  the  fair  regions  of  the  old  world  you  will  soon  forget  the 
fetters  which  tied  you  to  the  new  one  and  in  the  arms  of  your 
Richard  live  a  life  of  deepfelt  happiness." 

' '  And  am  I  to  take  nothing  with  me  ?" 

"Yes,  Caroline.  Your  departure  to  the  city  is  near  at  hand 
and  I  have  been  thinking  that  you  might  pack  a  trunk  and  send  it 
by  Adams  Express,  pretending  that  it  holds  your  winter  dresses 


174  DOLORES. 

which  need  attention  at  the  milliner's  hand.  You  need  not  mark 
the  trunk  but  just  send  word  by  John  that  you  will  call  at  the 
office  to-morrow  to  give  directions.  In  that  way  I  think  you  may 
without  suspicion  take  your  most  valuable  wardrobe  along." 

"  Well,  I  will  follow  your  advice,"  she  answered  with  a  sigh  ; 
'  *  and  God  may  grant — ah  !  Richard,  I  do  not  dare  to  call  on  Him 
any  more." 

"  She  shuddered  and  buried  her  face  in  her  hands. 

"  Not  so,  my  love,"  he  pleaded  with  his  most  alluring  tones  and 
soothing  and  consoling  the  conscience-stricken  woman,  gradually 
succeeded  in  restoring  to  all  appearances  her  peace  of  mind.  En 
joining  upon  her  the  necessity  of  caution  and  firmness,  he  left  her 
to  return  to  the  office  and  there  watch  the  movements  of  his  accom 
plice  whose  conduct  had  created  serious  misgivings  in  his  mind. 

Mrs.  Fox  in  the  mean  time  had  left  the  parlor  and  returned  to 
her  room,  where  she  made  preparations  to  pack  such  articles  of 
apparel  as  her  great  traveling  trunk  would  hold  and  as  could  be 
collected  in  a  hurry.  To  say  that  she  began  the  work  with  an  easy 
heart  would  do  her  injustice.  On  the  contrary  she  took  the  various 
garments  from  the  wardrobe  as  if  they  had  been  solid  iron  instead 
of  the  light  and  airy  fabrics  which  they  really  were.  Many  a  tear 
started  from  her  eyes,  running  across  -her  cheeks  and  falling  to  the 
floor  unheeded.  Her  thoughts  seemed  to  wander  far  away,  judging 
from  the  absent  look  of  her  eyes.  All  at  once,  however,  she  started 
like  one  whose  heart  had  been  pierced  by  a  bullet ;  the  dress  she 
held  slipped  from  her  fingers  and  her  whole  frame  trembled  as  if  in 
fever. 

What  was  the  matter  ? 

The  door  had  creaked  on  the  hinges,  and  Lucy's  voice  had  ex 
claimed  in  great  surprise  : 

"  Oh  !  mother,  what  is  that  ?  Moving  already  ?  I  declare,  you 
pack  your  things  for  going  to  the  city,  do  you  not  ?" 

That  was  the  cause  of  Mrs.  Fox's  sudden  start.  She  could  not 
force  herself  to  answer  her  daughter's  question,  but  nodding  merely 
with  her  head  bent  low  to  store  the  dress  away,  she  pretending  to 
be  very  busy  at  the  task. 

Lucy  laughed. 

'  *  Too  busy  to  reply.     I  really  think  that  you  have  caught  the 


DOLORES.  175 

working  fever  from  Dolores.  But,  mother,  don't  you  fear  that 
you'll  spoil  Susan  ?" 

"  The  name  of  Dolores  had  nerved  Mrs.  Fox  sufficiently  to  face 
her  daughter's  loving  glances.  "Me  will  remain,"  she  thought, 
"and  nobody  will  miss  me  except,  perhaps,  poor  Dick,  who  will 
have  a  hard  time  to  stand  the  flood  of  reprimand  and  admonition. 
But  I  do  not  give  him  up  altogether  ;  Richard  hinted  at  a  possi 
bility  of  meeting  him  again — 

Again  Lucy  broke  in  upon  her  train  of  thoughts. 

"  Why,  mother,  are  you  sick  ?  I  never  saw  you  so — so  taciturn. 
I  hope  I  have  not  offended  you." 

Mrs.  Fox's  heart  was  touched  by  this  appeal.  Tears  started  to 
her  eyes  and  embracing  her  daughter  with  a  fervor  which  was  even 
stranger  to  the  girl  than  the  previous  reserve,  she  said  with  stream 
ing  eyes  : 

' '  You  offend  me,  Lucy  ?  No  never,  never  did  you  in  the  least 
offend  me.  You  were  always  the  very  pattern  of  a  £ood  and  duti 
ful  daughter." 

"  But,  mother,  I  see  no  reason  to  cry  at  that.  I  for  my  part 
am  glad  to  have  you  think  and  say  so  ;  why  then  do  you  talk  as  if 
you  meant  to  leave  me,  never  to  return  ?" 

Mrs.  Fox  was  frightened. 

"Foolish  child,  what  do  you  talk  about?"  she  said,  casting  a 
shy  glance  around  the  room.  "  Did  I  lead  you  to  entertain  such 
silly  thoughts  ?" 

"No,  mother  ;  I  only  mean  you  talk  so  serious  as  if  you  in 
tended  taking  leave  for  ever." 

Mrs.  Fox  was  deeply  impressed. 

"  We  are  mortal,"  she  said  gloomily,  "  and  nobody  knows  how 
soon  we  may  be  called  from  one  another,  never  to  meet  again  on 
earth.  Lucy,  would  you — would  you — in  such  a  case — sometimes 
think  of  me  ?" 

"  You  know  I  would,  mother  ;  though  I  really  think  that  I  have 
as  much  right  to  think  of  dying  as  you.  There  is  something  the 
matter  with  you,  mother,  and  you  had  better  lie  on  your  lounge 
and  rest  instead  of  packing  these  dresses.  We  are  not  going  to 
morrow  you  know  and  you'll  find  plenty  time  yet." 


176  DOLORES. 

"  "NVe  are  not  going  but  the  trunk  is.  I  want  to  have — the 
milliner — make  some  alterations — " 

Lucy  shook  her  head. 

' «  Mother,  follow  my  advice  and  desist  from  doing  this  to-day. 
I  do  not  see — 

This  time  Mrs.  Fox  interrupted  her  sharply.  She  saw  no  other 
way  to  withstand  the  flood  of  emotions  awakened  by  her  daughter's 
gentle  pleadings. 

<l  That  is  enough,  Lucy,"  she  said.  ' '  I  understand  your  motives, 
but  your  contradictions  worries  me  and  you  will  oblige  me  by  de 
sisting.  Indeed  I  can  attend  much  better  to  this  work  when  I  am 
by  myself.  So  go  to  your  room  until  I  call  you  or  send  for  you.'' 

Lucy  had  listened  to  these  words  writh  increasing  sadness.  Her 
mother's  tenderness  had  for  a  while  awakened  the  hope  in  her  that 
hereafter  her  mother  would  take  her  nearer  to  her  heart,  but  now 
she  was  at  once  and  cruelly  undeceived.  The  animation  in  her 
face  died  away,  her  smile  faded,  and  a  large  tear  dropping  from 
her  eye,  slowly  rolled  across  her  cheek  and  fell  to  the  floor.  Thus 
she  stood  for  half  a  minute,  then  heaving  a  deep  sigh  she  turned 
and  was  on  the  point  of  leaving  the  room  when  her  mother's  voice 
stopped  her. 

"Lucy!" 

When  she  turned  she  saw  Mrs.  Fox  with  outstretched  arms, 
ready  to  receive  and  fold  her  to  her  heart.  Her  name  had  been 
uttered  with  so  much  longing,  such  deep  and  yearning  love  that 
Lucy  felt  like  one  stupified  and  instead  of  throwing  herself  at  once 
into  her  mother's  arms  stood  like  one  totally  bewildered.  But 
Mrs.  Fox  did  not  wait  for  the  return  of  her  composure  ;  hastening 
towards  her  she  flung  her  arms  around  her  neck  and  laying  her 
head  upon  her  shoulder  cried  bitterly  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 
Lucy  several  times  endeavored  to  speak  to  her  to  sooth  her  grief 
and  fathom  its  cause  ;  but  Mrs.  Fox  stopped  her  every  time  with 
so  much  earnestness  that  the  poor  girl  saw  no  remedy  but  to  lead 
her  to  a  lounge  and  there  resting  her  head  against  her  own  shoulder 
suffer  her  to  cry  herself  to  rest.  Nor  was  she  mistaken.  Quicker 
than  Lucy  had  expected  Mrs.  Fox  arose  to  a  sitting  posture  and 
drying  her  tears  remarked  : 

"There,  Lucy,  that  will  do.     This  has  been  in  me  for  a  long 


DOLORES.  177 

time,  and  my  heart  being  full  to  overflowing  the  flood  of  tears  could 
no  longer  be  restrained.  It  was  well,  my  child,  that  I  had  no  wit 
ness  of  my  weakness  but  you,  and  you  will  of  course  not  expose 
your  mother's  silly  conduct." 

"Of  course  not,  mother,  but  why  ?" 

"  I  have  a  second  favor  to  ask  you,  Lucy  ;  please  abstain  from 
questions.  The  time  will  soon  arrive  when  you  will  understand  me 
without  interpretation." 

"  I  will,  mother,  to  please  you.  Will  you  persist  in  further  ex 
hausting  your  strength  by  attending  to  this  unaccustomed  labor  ?  " 

"It  must  be  done,  Lucy,  and  that  at  once.  Come,  be  a  good 
girl  now  and  bother  me  no  longer  with  questions  and  objections. 
Go  to  your  room,  or  play  and  work  with  Dolores.  I  shall  be  done 
within  an  hour,  and  then  will  join  you  for  the  rest  of  the  day." 

To  secure  obedience  to  her  wishes  she  gently  forced  the  girl 
toward  the  door,  kissing  and  embracing  her  at  every  step.  On  the 
threshold  she  looked  once  more  with  fervent  tenderness  into  her 
eyes,  then  turning,  closed  and  locked  the  door,  leaving  Lucy  in  a 
strange  confusion  of  joy  and  sorrow  and  wonderment  at  the  possible 
cause  of  all  these  strange  breaks. 

Meanwhile  Mr.  Wood  was  walking  fast  to  reach  the  office.  He 
meditated  and  thought  that  in  dividing  his  spoils  with  George  so 
early  he  had  committed  a  mistake.  Where  was  his  guarantee  for 
the  faithful  execution  of  his  contract,  the  guarantee  against  imme 
diate  betrayal  ?  He  though  of  this  too  late,  but  while  he  trembled 
at  the  possibility  of  a  failure  in  his  plans  in  consequence,  he  hoped 
on  the  other  hand  that  fear  would  be  a  factor  of  sufficient  power  in 
the  young  man's  calculation  to  prevent  him  from  committing  trea 
son,  even  if  he  should  fail  to  execute  his  promise  of  delivering  the 
implicating  papers  into  the  hands  of  the  revenue  officers. 

But  Wood  must  even  guard  against  this  latter  emergency.  So 
sitting  down  he  penned  and  sealed  a  letter  which  was  addressed  to 
the  above  officers,  giving  such  information  as  would  necessarily  lead 
to  the  apprehension  of  the  guilty  party,  even  in  case  George  had 
failed  to  deliver  his  papers  in  person.  This  letter  he  placed  in  his 
pocket,  intending  to  drop  it  as  soon  as  their  flight  would  have  pro 
ceeded  sufficiently  to  make  it  safe.  The  rest  of  the  afternoon  he 
spent  in  superintending  the  various  departments  of  the  factory,  and 

12 


178  DOLORES. 

those  who  saw  the  calm  indifference  lying  on  his  countenance,  the 
sharpness  with  which  he  reprimanded  slight  mistakes,  the  orders 
he  gave  affecting  the  work  of  weeks,  would  have  hardly  dreamed 
that  this  man  stood  on  the  point  not  only  of  ruining  his  employer's 
business  character,  but  also  his  social  and  moral  position.  Collect 
ing  all  his  strength  of  mind  for  one  last  great  effort,  he  seemed  to 
all  appearances  as  calm  as  the  calmest  and  most  unconcerned  of  all 
the  men  in  his  principal's  employ. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

A    FAILURE. 

"There  goes  a  trunk  from  the  mansion,"  uncle  Jacob  addressed 
Mrs.  Fuchs  and  Henry,  who  since  his  uncle's  arrival  could  not  be 
persuaded  to  visit  the  factory  and  was  stoutly  backed  in  his  obsti. 
nacy  by  that  worthy  person.  "  There  goes  a  trunk,"  the  latter  said, 
observing  John  with  a  spring-wagon  on  which  a  large  trunk  was 
being  taken  away,  "and  if  you  don't  hurry,  sister,  you  won't  have 
the  satisfaction  of  lowering  Mrs.  Fox's  pride  a  peg  or  two." 

"  And  how  should  I  accomplish  that  ?  " 

"Of  course  by  paying  her  a  visit  in  your  new  capacity  of 
cousin." 

"  In  order  to  give  her  a  chance  of  humbling  me  so  low  that  even 
the  dogs  would  refuse  a  piece  of  bread  from  my  hand  ;  no,  indeed  ! 
you  won't  catch  me  playing  such  silly  tricks."  ' 

"  Pshaw  !  fiddlesticks  !  you  are  over  sensitive.  Only  let  me  find 
the  testament  and  you'll  see  me  handle  these  fancy  people  after  my 
own  fashion.  You  are  all  over-delicate  except  Henry,  who  is  a  lad 
after  my  own  heart.  Just  let  me  get  hold  of  the  lost  will  I'm 
hunting  and  I'll  show  you  what  I  mean  by  rewarding  aid  and  sym 
pathy." 

In  this  way  uncle  Jacob  had  spent  the  greater  part  of  the  day. 
During  the  absence  of  Conrad  and  Charles  he  tried  the  patience  of 
his  sister-in-law,  and  when  she  at  last  began  to  show  signs  of  ex 
haustion  of  that  useful  virtue  he  addressed  himself  to  Henry,  and 


DOLOEES.  179 

in  him  not  only  found  a  never-tiring  listener  but  also,  and  what 
was  more,  a  person  willing  to  enter  with  him  on  such  measures,  fair 
or  fcul,  and  spin  such  intrigues  as  might  be  necessary  to  attain  his 
purpose. 

Uncle  Jacob  was  an  everlasting  talker,  but  the  quality  of  his 
conversation  was  not  at  all  in  keeping  with  its  quantity.  Perhaps 
that  accounts  for  his  voluininousness,  and  he  acted  on  the  principle 
that  a  man  always  should  give  a  good  measure  of  an  inferior  article, 
while  we  find  another  explanation  in  the  circumstance  that  uncle 
Jacob  had  managed  to  secure  a  key  to  his  brother's  wine  cellar  and 
that  he  took  good  care  to  keep  his  lips  well  moistened. 

At  the  time  of  the  above  remark  Jacob  had  already  paid  fre 
quent  visits  to  the  cellar,  without,  however,  so  far  destroying  the 
equilibrium  which  is  necessary  to  carry  a  person  with  decorum 
through  his  daily  routine,  Still  Mrs.  Fuchs  was  afraid  that  further 
visits  would  have  that  undesirable  effect,  and  she  thought  proper  to 
remind  uncle  Jacob  of  the  fact  that  they  had  all  been  invited  to  the 
parsonage  that  night  to  celebrate  the  discovery  of  the  relationship 
of  Dol.  with  the  families  of  the  mansion  and  the  cottage.  Mr.  Fox 
would  be  present,  she  said,  and  then  hinted  how  unpleasant  it  must 
be  for  all  concerned  to  have  the  general  satisfaction  marred  or  de 
stroyed  by  the  incapacity  of  one  visitor  to  conduct  himself  with 
common  propriety. 

Jacob  resented  the  insinuation  in  his  usual  blunt  way,  but  yet 
he  proved  by  his  abstinence  from  further  potations  that  he  well  un 
derstood  the  importance  of  meeting  with  prudent  reservation  a  man 
whom  he  had  good  reason  to  believe  his  rival  for  the  acquisition  of 
countless  wealth.  Besides,  they  were  to  visit  a  preacher's  house, 
and  Charles  had  taken  pleasure  in  telling  his  uncle  that  preachers 
in  this  country  always  stand  on  great  ceremony,  and  do  not  saya  or 
suffer  to  be  said  in  their  presence  anything  that  is  not  unexcep 
tional  in  all  its  bearings. 

At  supper  time  the  men  came  home,  but  merely  taking  time 
enough  to  change  their  suits  they  and  the  rest  of  the  family  soon 
started  on  their  way  to  the  parsonage,  where  they  were  expected  to 
take  supper.  At  the  gate  of  the  mansion  they  were  joined  by  Mr. 
Fox  and  the  girls,  Mrs.  Fox  having  pleaded  a  headache  as  her  ex 
cuse  for  remaining  at  home.  Mr.  Fox  smiled  when  she  made  the 


180  DOLORES. 

statement,  but  little  did  he  dream  of  the  fearful  crisis  which  was 
fast  approaching  while  he  in  company  with  his  daughters  left  the 
house  to  spend  a  few  hours  in  social  intercourse.  Enjoy  them,  poor 
fellow,  for  an  hour  will  soon  appear  fraught  with  the  elements  of 
great  happiness. 

The  parsonage  wras  decorated  in  a  manner  becoming  the  occa 
sion.  Miss  Sarah  had  plundered  her  flower-garden  to  secure  a  fine 
bouquet  for  every  table  in  the  house.  The  dining-room  especially 
bore  a  gay  look,  and  the  hostess  was  greatly  pleased  to  see  so  much 
praise  bestowed  upon  her  arrangements.  She  smiled  through  tears 
when  she  took  both  the  hands  of  Dolores. 

"  Dol,  my  good  girl,"  she  said,  drawing  her  old  ward  into  her 
arms  and  kissing  her  with  warm  affection,  "I  wish  you  luck  in 
your  acquisitions.  I  and  my  brother  are  the  only  friends  who  have 
not  turned  into  kindred  ;  will  you  still  allow  us  to  think  of  you  as 
we  are  wont  to  do — that  is,  our  daughter?  " 

"  Of  course  I  will,"  Dolores  said.  "  I  shall  not  merely  allow 
but  demand  it.  Indeed  the  daughter  comes  before  the  cousin,  and 
if  the  latter  is  not  satisfied  with  that  arrangement  he  may  expect 
short  notice  to  quit." 

"Why!  this  is  dreadful  for  all  concerned!"  Charles  now  struck 
in.  I  fortunately  am  not  in  that  dilemma,  In  my  case  the  cousin 
does  not  interfere  with  the  daughter,  although  I  could,  no  doubt, 
muster  sufficient  dignity  for  a  father." 

One  playful  word  gave  birth  to  another  and  even  before  the 
company  had  seated  themselves  around  the  well  spread  table,  every 
trace  of  restraint  had  vanished,  excepting  uncle  Jacob's  who  was 
unable  to  follow  the  conversation  which  was  carried  on  in  English. 
To  indemnify  himself  he  bestowed  his  undivided  attention  upon 
Miss  Sarah's  dishes  which  met  with  his  profound  approbation.  At 
first  she  was  delighted  to  see  him  appreciate  her  culinary  efforts  so 
well;  but  by  and  by  her  delight  assumed  the  character  of  alarm, 
as  she  had  never  before  met  a  person  who  could  let  cakes  and  pies, 
custards  and  jellies  disappear  with  such  marvelous  rapidity.  Of 
course,  she  was  too  kind  and  well  bred  to  make  remarks,  but  the 
timid  glance  with  which  she  followed  the  gluttons  motions,  spoke 
plain  enough.  Charles  and  Dolores  enjoyed  her  scare  and  were  ex 
tremely  amused  at  the  energy  with  which  the  spinster  urged  the 


DOLORES.  181 

rest  of  the  company  to  partake  of  her  good  things.  Indeed  Sarah's 
dismay  did  not  spring  from  avarice,  but  from  a  well  founded  ap 
prehension  that,  in  spite  of  the  bounteous  supply,  the  others  would 
have  no  chance  of  admiring  her  skill  in  cooking,  baking,  stewing 
and  preserving,  if  this  locust  without  wings  was  allowed  to  continue 
his  depridations  without  a  check.  From  sheer  motives  of  com 
passion,  therefore,  the  young  people  seconded  the  spinsters  efforts, 
partly  by  letting  the  dishes  wander  around  the  table,  partly  by 
drawing  uncle  Jacob  into  a  conversation  in  German.  This  latter 
remedy  fully  answered  the  purpose.  Putting  on  all  the  steam  of 
his  lingual  engine,  he  tore  away  at  such  a  rate,  that  Dolores  thought 
the  medicine  was  worse  than  the  evil  and  told  her  friend  as  much 
in  a  confidential  whisper. 

Charles  laughed. 

*  It's  a  pity  that  men  like  him  don't  carry  a  safety  valve  on 
their  faces.  Uncle  carries  such  a  pressure  of  steam  that  an  ex 
plosion  wouldn't  at  all  astonish  me." 

But  this  whispering  was  contraband.  Uncle  Jacob  told  them 
as  much,  and  willing  or  not  willing,  the  unfortunate  couple  became 
the  victims  of  their  generosity.  For  that,  however,  they  had  the 
gratitude  of  Miss  Sarah,  which  took  a  tangible  shape  in  many  de 
licious  morsels  that  were  piled  on  their  plates.  After  supper  the 
party  strolled  through  the  house  and  garden.  It  was  a  beautiful 
October  night  with  a  starry  sky  of  rare  brightness  above.  The  still 
ness  of  the  hour  caused  distant  sounds  to  strike  the  ear  with  great 
plainness. 

"  Listen,  Dol,"  Charles  addressed  his  friend  with  whom  he  was 
wandering  up  and  down  the  garden  walk,  "  some  one  is  loosening  a 
boat.  This  is  a  grand  night  for  a  ride  on  the  bay." 

"But  who  may  have  any  business  out  there  so  late  ?  The  fish, 
ing  season  is  over,  is  it  not?" 

"Yes,  Dol.  I  hardly  know  who  could  be  out  so  late.  There 
are  not  many  such  romantic  souls  as  we  in  the  village.  However^ 
that  reminds  me  of  our  proposed  visit  to  the  cemetery.  A  few 
more  days  and  we  will  be  at  liberty  to  act." 

Some  one  approaching,  the  conversation  took  a  different  turn. 
The  evening  passed  away  pleasantly,  and  therefore  rapidly.  It  was 
fully  ten  o'clock  when  the  gathering  broke  up  and  the  guests  with 


182  DOLORES. 

many  a  good  night  departed.  Their  ways  ran  together  to  the  park- 
gate  of  the  mansion,  and  there  the  scene  of  parting  was  acted  over 
again.  All  this  had  caused  delay,  and  when  the  last  noise  had 
died  away  at  the  cottage,  the  clock  struck  eleven.  Everybody 
soon  found  rest  and  oblivion  in  the  arms  of  sleep  excepting  Uncle 
Jacob.  The  injudicious  packing  of  so  many  victuals,  after  many 
months  of  compulsory  fasting,  began  to  avenge  itself.  Even  on 
the  way  home  Jacob  had  began  to  fell  uncomfortable.  His  stomach 
had  indulged  in  queer  heavings  which  reminded  him  of  the  time 
when  he  was  on  the  ocean  and  had  fallen  a  prey  to  sea  sickness.  On 
his  arrival  at  the  cottage  he  had  paid  a  visit  to  the  cellar,  and  there 
endeavored  by  a  large  tumbler  full  of  rum  to  compromise  the  mat 
ter  with  his  stomach,  but  like  most  compromises  that  of  Uncle 
Jacob  had  merely  a  temporary  effect,  and  he  had  hardly  been  in 
bed  an  hour,  when  strange  sensations  awakened  him.  His  head 
grew  dizzy  and  he  would  have  sworn  that  he  was  unable  to  stir  a 
foot,  if  the  laws  of  violated  nature  had  not  forced  him  to  arise 
Uncle  Jacob  had  no  time  to  arouse  the  family  even  if  he  had  been 
inclined  to  do  so,  but  forward  and  callous  as  he  was,  he  felt  a  cer 
tain  shame  arising  from  the  consciousness  of  the  origin  of  his  sick 
ness. 

In  the  open  air  he  felt  a  little  better  ;  but  yet  the  revolution 
in  his  stomach  would  not  let  him  rest.  He  felt  a  crisis  coming 
nearer  and  nearer  and  an  increasing  nausea  drove  him  from  the 
porch  to  the  street.  He  hardly  knew  what  he  was  doing  ;  a  new 
cramp  in  his  stomach  forced  him  to  lay  both  his  hands  upon  the 
aching  part  ;  the  heaving  within  became  more  and  more  tumultu 
ous,  and  then  Uncle  Jacob  underwent  the  disagreable  sensation  of 
a  man  who  has  his  stomach  relieved  by  the  process  which  in  com 
mon  parlance  we  call  vomiting. 

He  had  sinned  considerably  against  his  stomach  and  his  penalty 
was  in  proportion.  A  full  quarter  of  an  hour  passed  by,  before  he 
could  venture  to  straighten  himself  up.  Wonderful  sensations  had 
in  the  meantime  passed  through  his  brain.  He  had  an  indistinct 
recollection  of  the  tramping  of  a  horse  and  the  rolling  of  carriage 
wheels.  On  reaching  the  place  of  the  road  opposite  the  cottage  the 
horse  had  shied  at  him,  if  his  impression  was  correct,  and  after 
bounding  sideways  with  a  jerk  that  sent  the  wagon  spinning  had 


DOLORES.  183 

started  off  at  a  furious  gallop.  He  had  also  heard  a  scream  that 
seemed  to  emanate  from  the  lips  of  a  woman,  judging  from  its  shrill 
nature  and  high  pitch — or  had  he  only  been  dreaming  that  part? 
No,  indeed,  for  listen  !  there  it  is  again,  though  not  so  shrill  now, 
but  low  and  moaning,  as  issuing  from  a  person  in  the  agonies  of 
pain.  It  is  near  by,  quite  near,  on  the  other  side  of  the  road,  and 
there  is  something  lying  on  the  ground  that  resembles  a  human  be 
ing. 

Jacob  has  now  fully  recovered  from  his  sickness.  Coarse  and 
forward  as  he  was  he  could  not  help  being  impressed  by  those  piti 
ful  moans,  and  running  to  the  spot  where  the  figure  lay  discovered 
to  his  consternation  a  woman  in  a  state  of  unconsciousness.  From 
her  mouth «came  the  plaintive  sounds  that  had  moved  and  startled 
him,  but  they  grew  lower  every  minute,  causing  him  to  fancy  that 
the  poor  sufferer  was  fast  approaching  death.  Jacob  was  in  a  great 
tribulation.  He  tried  to  lift  the  head  and  shoulders  of  the  person, 
but  a  louder  moan  induced  him  to  drop  her  again. 

"  I  can  do  nothing  by  myself,"  he  muttered,  and  running  rap 
idly  into  the  house  knocked  at  the  door  of  the  chamber  where  the 
boys  were  sleeping. 

"  Charles  !  Henry  !     Get  up,  get  up,  I  say  !  " 

Charles  was  the  first  to  answer. 

"Who  is  there?" 

"  1,  uncle  Jacob.  For  God's  sake  get  up  and  open.  There  is  a 
woman  dying  on  the  road.  She  must  have  fallen  from  a  wagon." 

"  A  woman,  you  say?  "  Charles  inquired,  obeying  his  injunc 
tions,  "  where  is  she  ?  What  is  the  matter  with  her  ?" 

"  She  is  dying  on  the  road,  I  say.  Be  quick,  boys,  or  you  won't 
find  her  alive." 

"Are  you  sure  you  ain't  dreaming,  uncle?"  Charles  inquired 
with  a  dubious  shake  of  his  head,  but  hurrying  his  dressing  as  much 
as  possible  notwithstanding. 

"You  will  soon  find  that  out  when  you  reach  the  road,"  Jacob 
answered. 

"  Come  on  then,  uncle,  I  am  ready." 

Rushing  down  stairs  the  two  soon  stood  beside  the  prostrate 
form,  which  by  that  time  had  ceased  to  give  any  signs  of  pain  or 
even  life. 


184  DOLORES. 

"  She  is  dead,"  Jacob  said,  with  a  shudder. 

"  No,  she  is  not,"  Charles  replied,  "  she  is  still  warm.  Lend 
me  a  hand,  uncle  ;  we  must  carry  her  into  the  house.  I  have  a 
good  hold  of  the  shoulders  and  you  take  the  feet.  Where  is 
Henry?" 

"Gone  to  sleep  again,  I  guess." 

"The  drowsy  good-for-nothing  !  We  have  to  do  without  him, 
then.  Are  you  ready  ?  Lift  her  up,  then." 

"It  will  give  her  pain,"  Jacob  suggested,  as  they  were  carrying 
the  body  toward  the  gate. 

"Not  now,  you  see  she  has  fainted  ;  and  if  she  hadn't  it  can't 
be  helped.  We  cannot  leave  her  in  the  open  street.  If  that 
sleepy-head  had  only  got  up — ah!  there  is  mother  with  a* light.  I 
am  so  glad.  Mother,  turn  the  light  this  way.  We  have  a  poor 
woman  who  has  come  to  harm  some  way  or  other." 

Mrs.  Fuchs  had  much  of  Charlie's  resoluteness  ;  she  was  a  woman 
for  emergencies.  Instead  of  indulging  in  useless  exclamations  she 
held  her  peace,  obeying  her  son's  injunctions,  and  thus  enabling 
the  men  to  take  their  burden  to  the  porch  and  thence  into  a  spare 
bedroom  that  adjoined  the  parlor. 

The  body  was  laid  upon  the  bed  and  the  bonnet  and  thick  veil, 
which  covered  head  and  face,  removed.  Then,  when  the  lamp  was 
raised  for  further  inspection  it  threw  its  rays  upon  a  face,  the  sight 
of  which  drew  a  simultaneous  cry  from  both  mother  and  son.  The 
lamp  in  Mrs.  Fuchs'  hand  shook  so  as  to  make  the  chimney  rattle, 
and  she  had  to  put  it  on  the  table  to  prevent  its  falling.  The  eyes 
of  the  two  met  in  a  long  and  significant  glance.  "  She  here,"  it 
seemed  to  say,  "and  at  this  hour,  and  in  this  dreadful  condition. 
What  can  it  mean  ?" 

But  there  the  inquest  ended.  No  sound  was  suffered  to  escape 
their  lips  to  give  voice  to  the  mute  supposition.  Even  the  wonder 
ing  inquiry  of  uncle  Jacob  was  disregarded,  and  conquering  their 
excitement  with  a  strong  resolve  the  two  set  to  work  with  a  will. 

"  Water,  Charlie,"  Mrs.  Fuchs  said,  in  a  manner  that  made  the 
words  come  out  as  if  under  a  strong  pressure.  "  I'll  see  to  all  the 
rest.  Jacob,  please  summon  Conrad  down,  but  leave  Henry  where 
he  is.  You  also  would  do  better  to  retire,  may  be,  for  you  look 
sick  and  tired,  and  we  can  get  along  without  you." 


DOLORES.  185 

But  Jacob  was  not  to  be  removed  in  that  way.  He  summoned 
Conrad  to  arise,  but  as  to  going  to  bed  he  couldn't  think  of  it.  He 
had  discovered  that  woman,  and  if  it  hadn't  been  for  him  they 
would  have  found  her  dead  in  the  street  on  the  coming  morning. 
And  now  was  he  to  be  put  aside  on  the  plea  of  consideration  and 
never  to  know  what  that  cry  of  mother  and  son  meant  ?  Not  he, 
indeed. 

During  the  absence  of  the  men  Mrs.  Fuchs  had  removed  the 
garments  of  the  sufferer  by  cutting  thorn  apart  ;  she  had  also  pulled 
off  her  shoes,  arid  when  Charles  returned  with  a  basin  of  water  and 
a  sponge  he  found  her  nicely  covered  with  a  quilt.  Mrs.  Fuchs  took 
the  sponge,  and  bathing  the  temples  of  the  woman  with  the  cooling 
fluid  endeavored  to  recall  her  to  consciousness.  She  succeeded  in  a 
measure,  for  the  patient  opened  her  eyes,  but  the  glance  she  cast  on 
her  surroundings  showed  by  its  vacancy  that,  though  no  longer  in  a 
swoon,  her  mind  was  wandering. 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Fuchs  came  into  the  room  with  Jacob  at 
his  heels.  His  face  showed  some  uneasiness,  but  he  evidently  did 
not  guess  the  truth,  for  when  his  wife  lifted  her  hand  in  caution 
and  stepping  up  to  him  whispered  a  word  in  his  ear  he  started  with 
a  look  of  consternation  which  seemed  to  say,  how  is  that  possible  ? 
But  when  he.neared  the  bed  and  cast  a  glance  upon  its  inmate  he 
saw  it  was  just  as  his  wife  had  intimated.  Folding  his  hands  he 
merely  uttered  : 

"Gracious  God." 

Charles  roused  his  parents  from  their  torpor. 

"  This  will  not  do,"  he  said.  "  We  must  at  once  take  measures 
to  secure  medical  aid  and  then  notify  her  husband." 

''Good  Heavens  !  Could  it  be  possible  that  he  should  be  ig 
norant  of  her  absence  from  home  at  this  late  hour  ?  " 

"No  guesses,  mother,  see  rather  to  her  comfort.  I'll  go  and 
get  the  doctor  and  then  call  at  the  mansion." 

He  went  away,  leaving  his  parents  alone  with  the  sufferer. 
Uncle  Jacob  would  have  liked  nothing  better  than  to  keep  them 
company,  but  a  plain  hint  from  his  nephew  sufficed  to  send  him  to 
his  room.  We  have  intimated  before  that  the  young  man  had  man 
aged  to  secure  his  relative's  respect  in  a  considerable  degree,  and 
Jacob  saw  fit  to  mind  the  son  where  the  mother  had  hinted  in  vain. 


186  DOLORES. 

True,  uncle  Jacob  grumbled  a  little  on  retiring  to  his  room,  but  he 
was  doubly  sleepy  in  consequence  of  his  perforce  cure,  and  found 
consolation  for  his  slight  the  moment  he  stretched  upon  his  mat 
tress. 

Not  so  the  pair  at  the  sick-bed.  They  knew  that  Charles  would 
use  the  utmost  speed  in  bringing  the  doctor,  and  yet  the  time  elaps 
ing  before  his  arrival  appeared  to  them  almost  like  eternity.  At 
last  the  garden  gate  swung,  the  door  opened,  and  the  physician  of 
the  village  made  his  appearance  in  the  room.  Charles  evidently 
had  prepared  them  in  a  measure  for  the  sight  in  store,  for  the  man 
of  science  was  more  excited  than  the  Fuchs  had  ever  seen  him  be 
fore. 

"  Good  evening,  friends,"  he  said  in  a  low  but  hurried  accent, 
"your  son  has  told  me  strange  news.  Mrs.  Fox  thrown  from  a  car 
riage,  and  that  at  midnight.  Ah  !  there  she  is,  poor  soul.  Please 
rnadam,  move  a  little,  to  give  me  a  chance  of  examining  her.  Has 
she  spoken  since  the  accident  ?" 

"  Not  a  word,  doctor.  She  was  unconscious  when  they  brought 
her  in,  but  the  cold  water  has  brought  her  to.  She  lo©ks  delirious." 

"  She  is  delirious,  and  I  should  not  wonder  if  brain  fever  would 
set  in  in  consequence  of  the  fall." 

"  Are  any  bones  broken,  doctor?" 

11  1  think  not,  but  her  case  is  bad  enough  without  it.  Please  to 
get  some  linen  or  muslin,  madam.  I  want  to  lay  wet  bandages 
around  her  head." 

While  Mrs.  Fuchs  produced  the  desired  articles  the  door  opened 
again,  this  time  admitting  Mr.  Fox  and  Charles.  The  former  was 
perfectly  bewildered,  showing  clearly  by  his  conduct  that  he  was  as 
much  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  his  wife's  present  plight  as  the  family 
in  the  cottage.  Neglecting  to  greet  the  persons  in  the  room  he 
hastily  stepped  up  to  the  bed  and  gazed  with  intense  anxiety  into 
the  vacant  eye  of  his  wife.  He  saw  how  the  doctor  applied  the  wet 
bandages  and  also  how  he  forced  some  medicine  through  her  com 
pressed  lips ;  but  more  than  ten  minutes  had  elapsed  since  his  ar 
rival  before  he  finally  asked  : 

"  Doctor,  is  there  any  hope  ?" 

"  His  voice  was  so  hollow  that  all  were  startled. 

"I  can  say  nothing  definite,  Mr.  Fox,"  the  physician  replied. 


DOLORES.  187 

"  As  far  as  I  can  judge  there  are  no  bones  broken,  but  the  head 
has  evidently  received  a  jar,  and  I  am  afraid  brain  fever  may  set 
in." 

"  Then  she  cannot  be  removed  ?  " 

"No,  sir  ;  the  most  absolute  rest  and  tranquility  are  necessary 
for  the  patient.  If  you  remove  her  I  can  answer  for  nothing." 

"  Oh  !  she  is  in  good  hands/'  Mrs.  Fuchs  earnestly  remarked. 
"  Don't  fret  on  that  score,  Mi  Fox." 

He  looked  at  her  intently,  then  shook  his  head. 

"  It  isn't  that,"  he  said.  "  I  wouldn't  want  better  care,  but  the 
people,  madam,  the  people." 

They  understood  well  what  he  meant,  but  nobody  came  forward 
to  offer  consolation. 

"  What  will  they  say  when  the  rumor  spreads  that  Mrs.  Fox 
was  found  at  midnight  on  the  highway  without  her  husband's 
knowledge  of  the  fact  ?  " 

"  Now,  don't  take  it  so  hard,  Mr.  Fox,"  the  owner  of  the  cot 
tage  said,  with  an  effort  at  consolation.  '•  Mrs.  Fox  may  have  had 
good  reasons  for  being  out,  and  as  to  the  people,  why  I  do  not  see 
why  they  need  ever  learn  anything  about  it.  Dr.  Palmer  is  the 
only  one  besides  the  family  who  knows  the  affair,  and  I  am  sure  he 
is  not  the  man  to  carry  gossip  to  the  people." 

"Of  course,  Mr.  Fox,  we  can  keep  the  whole  thing  a  secret  if 
you  think  best  to  have  it  so." 

"  That  is  a  good  idea,"  Mrs.  Fuchs  exclaimed.  "  Until  we  know 
the  object  of  Mrs.  Fox's  being  out  at  so  late  an  hour  we  must  en 
deavor  to  keep  the  accident  from  becoming  known.  Was  it  John 
that  drove  her  ?" 

"  No,  madam,  he  is  at  home  ;  so  are  the  horses.  That  is  what 
puzzles  me.  I  haven't  the  least  idea  what  this  strange  movement 
signifies." 

"  Well,  don't  you  fret  about  it  now,  Mr.  Fox.  I  am  sure  we 
shall  soon  get  the  clue  to  the  mystery.  But  listen,  she  begins  to 
talk  ;  is  that  a  good  sign,  doctor  ?  " 

The  physician  merely  answered  by  a  "  pst !"  and  all  could  dis 
tinctly  hear  how  the  patient  said  : 

"The  horse,  Richard  !  the  horse  !" 

After  a  minute's  silence  she  resumed  : 


188  DOLORES. 

"  Let  me  off,  Richard.  Let  me  off  to  return  to  my  children. 
What  will  they  think  of  their  mother?" 

Another  pause. 

"  They  will  point  their  fingers  at  me,  at  me,  the  adultress." 

Mr.  Fox  covered  his  face,  then  groaned  aloud. 

Mrs.  Fuchs  laid  her  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

"Now  don't ;  don't  condemn  her  on  the  testimony  of  a  feverish 
brain.  You  see  she  does  not  know  what  she  is  talking  about." 

"  I  know  she  doesn't,"  he  said  bitterly.  "  If  she  was  sensible 
she  would  hide  that  confession  in  the  deepest  recesses  of  her  soul." 

All  felt  the  force  of  his  remark. 

"  I  could  have  borne  much  from  her,"  he  continued,  "I  did 
bear  much.  But  that  she  should  have  sullied  my  honor,  should 
have  found  the  heart  to  abandon  my  home  and  children  to  cover  us 
with  shame  that  is  too  much,  is  more  than  I  can  ever  forgive  her.?> 

Again  Mrs.  Fuchs  attempted  to  console  him. 

"Mr.  Fox,"  she  said,  "do  not  rashly  judge  or  you  may  be 
judged.  Even  if  your  conjectures  be  correct — a  thing  by  no  means 
certain — you  should  thank  God  for  his  gracious  interference  and 
for  thus  frustrating  her  plans.  There  she  lies,  helpless  and  pros 
trate.  How  fortunate  that  it  was  our  house  in  which  she  was  re 
ceived.  If  she  should  not  recover  from  her  injuries  silence  will  for 
ever  cover  her  mistake  ;  if,  on  the  other  hand,  she  is  restored  to 
health,  she  will  have  learned  a  lesson,  and  you,  sir,  in  time  will  not 
withhold  your  pardon.  But  now,  sir,  talk  no  more,  for  unless  I  am 
mistaken  she  hears  us  and  becomes  excited." 

The  doctor  agreeing  with  her  the  room  became  perfectly  still. 
Charles,  at  the  doctor's  request,  accompanied  him  to  his  office  to 
take  the  proper  medicine  back  to  the  cottage.  Mr.  Fox  consented 
to  return  to  the  mansion  and  tell  a  plausible  story  in  the  morning 
so  as  to  shape  public  opinion  and  prevent  idle  rumors  from  spread 
ing  among  the  neighbors.  He  was  to  call,  however,  in  the  morn 
ing  and  to  bring  Dolores  with  him  so  that  the  girl  might  assist  Mrs. 
Fuchs  and  relieve  her  in  a  measure  of  the  burden  which  this  sick 
spell  had  imposed  upon  her.  Mr.  Fuchs  retired  to  a  lounge  in  a 
neighboring  room  and  his  wife  resumed  her  seat  at  the  side  of  the 
bed  to  watch  the  patient  and  administer  the  medicine  in  accordance 
with  the  doctor's  directions.  When  Charles  returned  she  tried  to 


DOLORES.  189 

persuade  him  to  take  a  little  more  sleep,  but  he  refused  so  emphat 
ically  that  she  gave  it  up  and  allowed  him  to  share  the  vigil  at  the 
bedside. 

Thus  the  hours  of  the  night  wore  away  and  with  the  returning 
sun  the  doctor  again  made  his  appearance. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

IT    NEVER    RAINS    BUT    IT    TOURS. 

He  was  not  alone  ;  Mr.  Fox  and  the  two  young  ladies  appeared 
in  his  company.  The  intelligence  elicited  from  Mrs.  Fuchs  was 
not  satisfactory.  The  patient  had  had  a  restless  night  and  spoken 
considerably  in  the  same  strain  as  that  related.  In  fact  she  hesita 
ted  to  admit  the  girls  to  her  room,  and  taking  Mr.  Fox  aside  inti 
mated  as  much.  It  would  hardly  do,  she  said,  to  allow  Lucy  to 
listen  to  a  mother  proclaiming  continually  her  own  shame.  And 
yet  how  could  they  refuse  her  ?  On  what  plea  should  they  exclude 
her  from  the  presence  of  a  mother  that  might  die  before  the  setting 
of  another  sun  ?  The  Doctor  was  consulted  and  induced  to  state 
that  the  presence  of  too  many  persons  would  injure  the  condition 
of  the  patient ;  but  Lucy,  generally  so  gentle  and  yielding,  was 
deaf  tc  all  persuasions  this  time.  Indeed  she  guessed  the  truth  and 
told  them  as  much. 

"Let  me  in,"  she  pleaded,  "for  my  place  is  at  my  mother's 
bedside.  If  she  is  delirious  and  in  her  fever  talks  at  random  I  shall 
not  hear  it,  at  least  not  heed  it.  So  do  not  hinder  me  from  going 
in  to  her.  I  shall  not  make  the  least  noise,  nor  be  at  all  in  the 
way  ;  but  see  her  and  nurse  her  I  must,  indeed  I  must." 

What  should  they  do  ?  She  guessed  the  truth  and  so  they 
thought  at  last  they  might  as  well  indulge  her.  To  the  entrance 
of  Dolores  there  was  no  objection  after  that ;  indeed  nobody  seemed 
to  think  it  wrong  from  the  beginning.  She  was  strong  of  mind, 
they  knew.  To  imagine  that  she  might  be  injured  in  her  morals 
was  preposterous.  The  even  tenor  of  her  mind,  her  high  princi 
ples,  the  purity  of  her  heart  that  lit  up  her  face,  as  it  were,  with  a 


190  DOLORES. 

halo  of  innocence,  excluded  the  thought  of  even  the  possibility 
that  she  might  be  injured  by  the  contact  with  sin  and  evil.  Nobody 
ever  mentioned  this  in  words,  or  thought  of  it  even  in  distinct 
thoughts  ;  but  that  is  the  triumph  of  a  pure  and  high  strung  nature 
that  it  fills  all  around  it  with  an  instinctive  confidence,  a  trust  as 
much,  a  matter  of  course,  as  the  eternal  laws  of  nature. 

So  the  girls  were  admitted  to  the  room,  and  after  a  few  pangs 
of  bitter  anguish  on  the  part  of  Lucy  and  rapidly  suppressed  tears 
of  sympathy  on  that  of  Dolores,  the  young  nurses  entered  upon 
their  duties.  There  is  a  soothing  influence  in  youth,  gentleness 
and  beauty  even  upon  sickness,  and  the  feverish  blood  of  poor 
Mrs.  Fox  seemed  to  flow  less  violently  through  her  veins.  Perhaps 
the  doctor's  medicine  also  began  to  take  effect  and  half  an  hour 
after  Mr.  Fox's  arrival  at  the  cottage  his  wife  fell  into  a  sleep 
which,,  though  broken  and  feverish,  might  be  considered  a  great 
improvement  on  her  previous  ravings.  It  also  gave  the  others  a 
chance  for  a  short  consultation  on  the  course  to  be  pursued.  It 
was  impossible  to  conceal  the  sickness  of  Mrs.  Fox  altogether,  but 
it  was  to  be  hoped  that  they  might  succeed  in  giving  it  a  natural 
explanation.  She  had  been  sick  for  some  time,  and  under  the  influ 
ence  of  a  slow  fever  had  packed  and  dispatched  her  trunk.  In  the 
night  her  fever  had  increased  sufficiently  to  cause  an  aberration  of 
her  mind.  In  this  delirious  condition  she  had  wandered  from  the 
house  and  taken  refuge  at  the  cottage  where  she  was  kindly  receiv 
ed  and  nursed,  the  malignant  nature  of  the  sickness  making  a  re 
moval  of  the  patient  impossible. 

This  story,  they  hoped,  might  find  credence  with  the  public, 
provided  it  was  systematically  repeated  by  all  concerned.  True,  it 
was  beyond  their  power  to  prevent  idle  gossips  from  starting  rum 
ors,  but  a  frown  at  the  proper  time  would  suffice  to  chase  them 
from  open  day-light  in  to  the  night,  where  they,  like  bats,  might 
eek  out  a  shadowy  existence.  The  only  danger  of  betrayal  lay 
with  uncle  Jacob,  and  Charles  volunteered  to  take  upon  himself 
the  task  of  securing  his  silence. 

"  I  think  I  can  manage  him,"  he  said,  "  and  may  as  well  go  up 
at  once  to  try.  But  before  I  forget  ;  when  I  returned  with  the 
medicine  from  Dr.  Palmer's  office  I  saw  something  white  lying  in 
the  road  at  the  place  where  we  discovered  Mrs.  Fox.  On  closer 


DOLORES.  191 

examination  I  found  it  to  be  a  letter  and  thinking  that  it  might 
have  fallen  from  the  poor  lady  I  put  it  in  my  pocket,  to  hand  it  to 
Mr.  Fox  in  the  morning.  Here  it  is,  sir,  and  you  had  better  ex 
amine  it,  while  I  go  up  to  see  to  uncle  Jacob." 

With  these  words  he  pulled  an  envelope  from  his  pocket  that" 
was  unsealed  and  unaddressed,  though  it  evidently  contained  a  let 
ter,  judging  from  its  weight  and  stiffness.  He  handed  it  to  Mr. 
Fox  and  then  left  the  room  and  went  up  stairs  to  see  his  uncle. 
The  sickness  and  vigil  of  last  night  had  prolonged  uncle  Jacob's 
slumber  and  Charles  had  to  shake  him  considerably  to  secure  his 
attention. 

* '  Ah  !  yes,  yes,  ah  !  what  is  the  matter  ;  is  that  you  Charlie  ? 
What  is  it  my  lad  ? 

' '  Are  you  fully  awake,  uncle  ?  " 

"  Wide  awake,  like  a  lark,  Charlie." 

"And  do  you  recollect  last  night's  adventure  ?" 

"Exactly!"  he  exclaimed,  although  it  was  evident  that  only 
his  nephew's  inquiry  had  roused  his  memory.  "The  woman  that 
had  fallen  from  the  carriage,  is  she  dead,  Charlie  ?" 

His  voice  became  low  and  husky  at  this  question. 

"No,  uncle,  she  is  alive  and  may  recover.  It  was  on  her  ac 
count  that  I  come  to  speak  to  you." 

Uncle  Jacob  straightened  himself  rapidly  ;  his  interest  had  been 
awakened  and  he  inquired  with  eagerness  : 

"  Well,  Charlie,  I  am  all  attention  ;  what  have  you  to  tell  me 
about  the  woman  ?" 

' '  You  saw  mother  and  me  start  last  night  on  recognizing  her. 
You  wont  wonder  at  that  when  I  tell  you  that  the  woman  is  the 
mistress  of  the  mansion,  Mrs.  Fox?" 

"  Whey  !  Charlie,  you  don't  say  so  !" 

' '  Yes,  I  do,  uncle  ;  it  is  Mrs.  Fox  that  now  lies  down  stairs 
with  a  typhoid  fever." 

"  Typhoid  fever?  Strange !  I  never  heard  of  anybody  getting 
that  from  falling  out  of  a  carriage." 

"But  she  didn't  fall  from  a  carriage,  uncle,"  Charles  said,  im 
pressively,  looking  at  his  relative  significantly.  "  I  came  up  for 
the  purpose  of  correcting  that  impression." 

"But  I  heard  the  carriage,  Charlie." 


192  DOLORES. 

"  Nothing  but  the  fancy  of  a  sick  brain." 

"  I  tell  you  it  was  no  such  thing,  boy.  I  saw  the  horse,  too, 
and  I  could  swear — " 

"  You  better  not,  uncle,"  Charles  interrupted  him. 

"It  is  just  as  I  tell  you.  Mrs.  Fox •  Jias  not  fallen  from  the 
ivagon,  but  is  suffering  from  a  typhoid  fever." 

"But,  Charlie — ,"  the  obstinate  fellow  resumed. 

"  Why,  uncle,  I  wonder  at  your  dull  comprehension,"  the 
young  man  said  impatiently,  "  fallen  or  not  fallen,  she  mustn't 
have  fallen  but  suffers  from  a  typhoid  fever.  Do  you  understand 
now  ?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  see  ;  you  want  to  hush  the  matter  up." 

"  Exactly,  and  will  you  promise  to  let  nobody  know  the  real 
state  of  affairs  ?" 

"  Of  course,  my  boy,  if  I  can  do  you  a  favor  by  it." 

"  Not  even  Henry  ?" 

"  You  want  even  him  to  remain  in  ignorance  ?" 

"Him  more  than  all  the  rest.     He  gossips  like  an  old   woman." 

"  Well,  if  it  must  ba  I  will  not  tell  him.  It  will  go  hard,  though, 
for  I  like  the  boy." 

A  derisive  smile  passed  over  Charlie's  countenance. 

"It  must  be,  uncle,  and  now  let  me  tell  you.  By  hinting  a 
word  of  this  affair  to  anybody  you  will  make  me  your  enemy  ;  do 
you  know  what  that  signifies,  to  have  me  for  an  enemy?" 

Charles  looked  daggers  while  he  said  this.  Uncle  Jacob  had  an 
idea  and  lie  said  so. 

"  Well,  I  am  glad  of  it.  However,  I  would  rather  be  your 
friend,  and  if  you  humor  me  in  this  I  shall  befriend  you.  I  have 
an  idea  where  Kberhardt's  testament  may  be  concealed  and  if  I  find 
you  a  man  of  \*our  word  I  may  aesist  you  in  discovering  it." 

Charles  could  not  well  have  hit  upon  a  more  powerful  incentive 
to  close  his  uncle's  lips.  Jacob's  eyes  lit  up  at  the  mention  of  the 
will,  and  he  was  on  the  point  of  launching  on  a  torrent  of  eager 
questions,  when  a  rap  at  the  door  interrupted  him.  Charles  opened 
and  saw  Mr.  Fox  standing  outside.  Dejected  as  that  gentleman 
had  been  since  the  discovery  of  his  wife's  want  of  fidelity,  he  looked 
now  so  pale  and  frightened,  so  much  the  prey  of  hopeful  consterna 
tion,  that  Charles  at  once  guessed  a  new  calamity.  Stepping  out 


DOLORES.  193 

to  him  and  closing  the  door  behind  him,  he  asked  in  guarded  tones: 

' '  What  is  the  matter,  sir  ?     She  isn't  worse,  not  dying  ?  " 

Mr.  Fox  shook  his  head. 

"  The  letter  !  the  letter  !"  he  gasped,  pointing  to  an  open  paper 
he  held  in  his  trembling  hand. 

"  What  letter,  Mr.  Fox  ?     The  one  I  gave  you  ?" 

Mr.  Fox  nodded. 

"  Take  and  read,"  he  said.     "  I  am  a  ruined  man." 

Charles  took  the  letter,  but  instead  of  looking  at  it,  he  said  : 

"  Come,  Mr.  Fox,  let  us  go  down  into  the  parlor  or  the  arbor 
behind  the  house.  This  is  too  public  a  place  to  discuss  delicate 
matters.  Come  my  dear  sir." 

Taking  the  other's  arm,  he  led  him  down  stairs. 

"  Does  my  father  know  about  this  ?"  he  asked  on  the  way. 

'  'No,  Charlie,  I  thought  of  you  first.  I  knew  that  I  could  rely 
on  your  judgment  and  energy  above  that  of  all  others." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,  for  your  good  opinion  ;  but  father  is  a  man 
of  much  experience,  though  a  little  timid  in  consequence  of  early 
training.  Have  you  any  objection  to  draw  him  in  to  the  secret?" 

"Not the  least,  Charlie  ;  on  the  contrary,  I  applaud  your  prop 
osition.  Call  him  at  once." 

Charles  found  his  father  making  preparations  for  going  to  the 
factory.  Looking  at  the  clock  on  the  mantelpiece  he  saw  that  the 
hand  had  passed  the  hour  of  six  by  thirty  minutes. 

"  Have  you  had  your  breakfast,  father?" 

"A  bite,  Charlie,  a  cold  bite.  I  thought  I  wouldn't  wait  for 
anything  else,  for  my  presence  may  be  necessary  at  the  factory." 

Charles  looked  up  ;  the  thought  of  Mr.  Wood  struck  him  for 
the  first  time.  Had  he  any  connection  with  the  letter  ?  But  he 
had  no  leisure  to  meditate  now,  so  he  said  : 

"  Don't  go  for  a  minute  or  two,  father.  Mr.  Fox  wants  you  in 
the  garden." 

Fuchs  nodded  without  asking  questions  and  the  two  went  into 
the  grape  arbor,  where  they  found  Mr.  Fox  sitting  at  a  table,  his 
head  resting  heavily  on  his  hand. 

"Here  we  are,  sir,"  Charles  addressed  him,  "and  ready  to 
listen.  You  may  beforehand  rest  assured  ©f  our  assistance,  feeble 
as  it  is." 


194  DOLORES. 

"  Thank  you,"  Mr.  Fox  said  monotonously,  at  the  same  time 
handing  him  the  letter. 

Charles  opened  it  and  recognizing  the  handwriting,  exclaimed  : 

" Mr.  Wood's  hand  ;  shall  I  read  aloud?" 

' '  If  you  please,  Charlie." 

FOXVILLE, 

To  Lieutenant  D ,  commander  of  the  Revenue  Cutter  Speed. 

DEAR  SIB: — It  is  my  painful  duty  to  inform  you   to-day  of  a 

nefarious  practice  to  which  Edward  Fox,  of  Foxville,  L county, 

Maine,  and  a  manufacturing  house  of  England,  are  parties.  A 
smuggling  trade  of  steel  has  been  carried  on  between  these  parties 
for  years,  and  on  so  great  a  scale  that  the  Government  has  been 
cheated  out  of  thousands.  A  few  days  ago  I  dispatched  a  messenger 
to  you  with  the  necessary  evidence  to  prove  the  misdemeanor,  but 
fearing  that,  for  some  reason  or  other  the  information  may  not  reach 
you,  I  take  pains  to  send  you  these  lines.  If  you  will  take  the 
trouble  to  visit  the  coast  of  Maine,  near  Foxville,  and  there  examine 
the  cave  of  the  cemetery  you  will  find  ample  proofs  of  the  correct 
ness  of  my  statement.  Hoping  that  the  law  will  have  its  way  and 
that  this  great  swindle  will  find  the  punishment  it  deserves,  I  sign 
myself  Truly  yours, 

A  LAW  ABIDING  CITIZEN. 

"  The  scoundrel  !"  Mr.  Fuchs  exclaimed,  with  a  readiness  show 
ing  that  he  had  for  once  overcome  his  diffidence. 

"Yes,  more  than  scoundrel!"  Charles  struck  in.  "Now  I 
understand  his  machinations." 

"I  don't,"  Mr.  Fox  said,  with  an  apathetic  voice.  "  What  can 
he  mean  with  this  senseless  information  ?  It  is  not  only  fear  that 
moved  me  so,  it  is  horror  at  such  black  ingratitude." 

"  When  I  explain  you  will  understand  it  easily  enough.  First 
let  me  tell  you  that  Mr.  Wood  has  been  really  smuggling,  and  for 
several  years." 

His  hearers  started. 

"Smuggling,  and  you  knew  it  and  did  not  inform  me?"  Mr. 
Fox  said,  half  wonderingly,  half  indignantly. 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  knew  it  and  so  did  Dolores.  Allow  me  to  tell  you 
how  we  found  it  out  and  why  we  concealed  it  from  your  knowledge. 
We  may  have  been  wrong,  but  if  we  were  it  was  a  fault  of  the 
head,  not  of  the  heart." 

He  now  related  the  adventure  with  the  sled  and  his  subsequent 
discoveries.  He  gave  as  the  reason  of  his  secrecy  the  wish  to  catch 
the  offender  in  the  act  of  smuggling,  but  laboring  under  the  diffi- 


DOLORES.  195 

culty  of  being  obliged  to  conceal  the  essential  features,  failed  in 
satisfying  his  hearers. 

"You  meant  well,  Charlie,"  Mr.  Fox  replied.  "I  know  you 
meant  well,  for  by  means  of  your  hints  I  was  enabled  to  counter 
act  the  pernicious  influences  of  this  traitor.  Still,  if  you  had  in 
formed  me  I  might  have  prevented  this  misfortune.  Who  knows 
what  seeming  evidence  the  scoundrel  may  have  collected  to  fasten 
this  crime  upon  me.  He  speaks  of  a  messenger  who  was  sent  some 
days  ago  ;  he  speaks  of  caves  which  are  entirely  unknown  to  me — 
ah  !  even  now  the  servants  of  the  law  may  be  on  the  track,  and 
ready  to  fasten  on  my  name  a  stain  that  will  never  leave  it  again, 
even  if  they  fail  to  prove  the  charge  against  me." 

"Yes,  Charlie,  you  did  wrong,"  Mr.  Fuchs  now  joined  in.  "  It 
was  always  your  fault  to  act  too  independently  and  your  conduct 
may  now  bring  about  the  ruin  of  our  benefactor." 

This  was  more  than  Charles  could  bear,  fie  sprang  to  his  feet 
and  was  on  the  point  of  repelling  the  charge  when  all  at  once  he 
remembered  the  binding  obligation  of  the  oath.  No,  he  would  not 
perjure  himself,  even  at  the  risk  of  being  misjudged  by  those 
whose  good  opinion  he  valued.  A  few  days  would  set  everything 
right,  and  even  if  the  revenue  officers  should  raise  the  charge  of 
smuggling,  his  testimony  and  that  of  Dolores  would  certainly  suf 
fice  to  clear  Mr.  Fox.  So  calming  down  he  merely  said  : 

"Father  !  Mr.  Fox  !  you  surely  wrong  me.  I  cannot  now  re 
veal  any  more  than  I  have  told  you  ;  but  in  a  few  days  shall  give 
you  satisfactory  explanations.  Until  then  I  beg  you  to  believe 
that  I  did  nothing  which  your  judgment  would  not  sustain,  if  you 
knew  all.  But  time  is  precious  now  ;  let  us  resolve  upon  our  next 
movement  in  this  matter.  Of  course  we  shall  not  find  Mr.  Wood 
at  the  factory  this  morning,  nor  George,  either." 

"  Why  not  George  ?" 

"  Because  he  is  the  accomplice  of  Mr.  Wood,  or  rather  one  of 
them.  Our  presence  will,  therefore,  be  very  necessary  there  this 
morning.  risJiall  go  with  father  at  the  usual  hour.  You,  Mr. 
Fox,  must  come  a  little  later  to  avoid  the  appearance  of  haste." 

"  Yes,  yes,  that  will  be  best,"  Mr.  Fuchs  now  struck  in  ;  "you 
must  come  at  your  usual  hour  to  keep  the  workmen  from  starting 
rumors." 


196  DOLORES. 

After  this  remark  he  stopped  and  both  the  elder  men  involun 
tarily  turned  to  Charles,  as  if  they  expected  to  receive  from  him 
directions  as  to  what  else  was  to  be  done. 

"  "When  you  arrive  you  call  me  out  and  take  me  to  the  office," 
the  young  man  continued  with  a  resolute,  decisive  tone  that  showed 
exactly  what  he  thought  was  necessary  and  imparted  that  feeling 
to  the  others.  "There  we  must  first  examine  everything  before 
we  decide  upon  our  next  step.  I  am  very  much  afraid  we  shall 
make  discoveries  that  will  prove  that  this  letter  and  the  attempt  on 
Mrs.  Fox  are  not  the  only  items  of  Mr.  Wood's  list  of  crimes.  Mr. 
Fox,  have  you  had  any  breakfast  this  morning  ?" 

"  No,  Charlie,  but  I  have  no  appetite  whatever." 

"  You  must  force  yourself  to  eat  a  little,  nevertheless.  Other 
wise  you,  too,  would  break  down  and  goodness  knows  we  cannot 
spare  you  now.  Come,  dear  sir,  I  think  mother  has  some  break 
fast  ready  now.  Cheer  up  ;  all  may  be  well  yet." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

WORSE    AND    WORSE. 

Mr.  Fox  suffered  himself  to  be  led  into  the  house.  Breakfast 
was  ready  and  the  three  sat  down  to  take  a  few  morsels  before 
goin£  to  the  task  that  had  been  resolved  upon.  Mr.  Fox  was  first 
to  go  to  the  mansion  and  there  relate  the  story  concerning  his  wife's 
illness  and  afterwards  make  his  appearance  at  the  factory.  The 
girls  were  to  remain  at  the  cottage  for  the  present  and  assist  in 
nursing  the  patient.  Mrs.  Fuchs  was  able  to  give  them  all  the 
comforting  assurance  that  the  condition  of  the  sufferer  was  all  that 
could  Jbe  expected  under  the  circumstances  and  that  there  was 
reasonable  hope  of  recovery,  provided  undue  excitement  could  be 
prevented  from  preying  on  her  mind. 

They  soon  separated.  Mr.  Fox,  taking  the  way  to  the  mansion, 
cast  uneasy  glances  about  him  to  see  whether  people  were  already 
acquainted  with  his  shame.  A  few  people  of  the  village  passing 
him  greeted  him  with  the  usual  salutation,  but  in  his  opinion  their 
accent  was  ironical  and  their  smile  malignant.  Probably  these 


DOLORES.  197 

persons  looked  and  acted  after  their  wonted  fashion  ;  but  his  mood 
colored  the  visions  of  his  eye,  causing  it  to  act  like  a  prism  which 
dyes  the  object  on  which  it  casts  its  colored  rays. 

On  reaching  his  house  he  noticed  an  unusual  stir  and  bustle 
among  the  servants.  They  knew  that  something  was  wrong,  and 
he  shrank  from  the  thought  that  it  was  his  province  to  give  the 
necessary  explanations.  Still  he  knew  that  much  depended  on  his 
looks  and  words,  and  going  to  the  library  he  rang  the  bell. 

When  Susan  entered  he  had  tolerably  well  succeeded  in  banish 
ing  from  his  face  all  emotions  except  a  sadness  which  was  but  nat 
ural  for  the  occasion. 

"  Susan,"  he  said,  "I  want  to  speak  to  you.  Ta^e  a  chair  and 
listen  well  to  what  I  tell  you,  for  I  want  you  to  communicate  sad 
news  to  the  others." 

Here  Susan  interrupted  him.  Clasping  her  hands  together  she 
exclaimed  with  a  frightened  voice  : 

"  Oh  !  Mr.  Fox,  I  knew  it,  I  knew  it.  They  wouldn't  believe 
me  when  I  told  them  that  something  had  befallen  my  mistress,  but 
I  see  it  now  in  your  face.  Is  she  dead  ?  Is  my  poor  mistress 
dead  ?  " 

"  No,  Susan,  it  is  not  so  bad  as  that  ;  but  what  made  you  think 
so?" 

"  Oh!  when  I  knocked  at  her  door  this  morning  I  got  no  an 
swer — not  a  bit  of  one.  I  tried  again  and  again,  but  with  no  better 
luck.  And  then,  too,  I  heard  the  bell  in  the  night  and  noticed  your 
getting  up  and  going  away.  I  thought  something  was  the  matter, 
but  when  you  came  and  took  the  young  ladies  away  I  knew  it  for 
sure.  Oh!  Mrs.  Fox  is  dead  !  my  good  mistress  is  dead,  only  you 
are  afraid  to  tell  me." 

''Indeed,  Susan,  it  is  not  so  bad  as  that,"  Mr.  Fox  replied,  evi 
dently  moved  by  the  manifestation  of  an  attachment  which  he  had 
not  expected.  "  Still  she  is  very  sick  and  there  is  no  telling  what 
may  happen.  Tell  me  Susan,  did  you  notice  anything  unusual  in 
Mrs.  Fox  lately,  any  symptoms  of  sickness  ?  " 

"Not  to  my  knowledge,  sir,  excepting,  maybe,  yesterday  after 
noon.  Mr.  Wood  called  during  your  absence,  but  he  didn't  stay 
long,  and  when  Mrs.  Fox  went  up  stairs  I  thought  she  looked  fever 
ish  like.  Yes,  now  I  think  of  it,  she  did,  and  then  she  commenced 


198  .        DOLORES. 

to  pack  the  trunk,  a  thing  she  never  did  in  all  her  life.     Indeed, 
she  must  have  been  sick  then,  only  we  didn't  think  of  it." 

"  Yes,  Susan,  I  think,  like  you,  she  must  have  been  very  sick 
even  then,  and  it  is  a  great  pity  we  didn't  notice  it.  Lucy  told  me 
that  she  was  very  anxious  about  her  dresses  and  wouldn't  even  let 
her  touch  them.  She  seemed  to  have  the  queer  idea  that  the 
dresses  needed  altering  and  must  at  once  be  sent  to  the  city." 

"  Indeed,  sir,  and  she  did  send  them — a  big  trunk  full.  John 
had  to  take  it  to  town  to  Adams'  express.  She  would  call  and  see 
about  it,  he  had  to  tell  them." 

"  And  she  did  go,  poor  woman.  We  must  have  been  strangely 
blind  not  to  see  it  coming.  About  midnight  Mrs.  Fox  must  have 
become  delirious,  for  from  what  happened  afterwards  we  know  that 
she  must  have  left  the  house  about  that  time." 

"  Good  gracious  !  the  darling  woman  !  To  leave  the  house  at 
such  an  hour  alone  and  in  a  fever.  It's  a  wonder  it  didn't  kill  her." 

"  It  came  very  near  it,  Susan,  and  may  still  for  all  we  know.'* 

"  But  where  is  she  now  ?  " 

"  At  the  cottage,  you  know,  Mr.  Fuch's  house.  We  were  at 
the  parsonage  last  night,  and  didn't  get  home  till  late.  Mrs.  Fuchs 
had  some  arrangements  to  make  before  retiring,  and  the  clock 
struck  twelve  before  she  had  got  through.  To-day  is  her  wash-day 
and  looking  out  to  see  what  kind  of  weather  she  might  expect  she 
noticed  something  white  lying  in  the  street.  At  first  she  thought  it 
was  a  rag  or  something  of  that  sort,  but  when  she  heard  a  moan  she 
knew  it  was  a  human  being,  and  running  down  discovered  Mrs. 
Fox.  They  were  sorely  frightened,  you  may  well  believe,  and  so 
was  I  when  they  summoned  me  to  the  bedside.  I  fo  und  the  doctor 
there,  who  told  me  it  was  typhoid  fever  of  the  worst  description. 
She  didn't  know  me  nor  the  girls  either  this  morning." 

"Oh,  dear  !  oh,  dear  !"  Susan  exclaimed,  "  and  are  there  no 
hopes  of  her  recovery  ? " 

"  Oh  yes,  she  was  a  little,  better  when  I  left,  and  had  fallen  into 
a  slumber.  Still  she  may  be  sick  for  weeks,  if  she  does  recover, 
and  we  couldn't  think  of  moving  her.  So  she'll  remain  at  the  cot 
tage,  and  the  girls  will  be  there,  too,  most  of  the  time  to  nurse  her 
and  keep  her  company." 


DOLOKES.  199 

"Oh!  how  dreadful,  how  dreadful.  The  house  will  belike 
dead,  and  we  might  as  well  all  go  away." 

"  Indeed  we  mightn't,  Susan.  I  shall  be  here,  and  I  expect 
everything  to  go  on  as  usual." 

"  But  may  I  go  and  see  her,  sir  ?" 

"  Not  just  at  present,  Susan.  The  doctor  has  ordered  the  strict 
est  seclusion,  and  says  the  slightest  excitement  may  kill  her.  As 
soon,  however,  as  she  is  out  of  danger  you  may  see  her  as  often  as 
you  please." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,  and  will  you  want  any  dinner  to-day?" 

"  Of  course,  Susan,  I  expect  to  take  my  meals  here.  So  now 
you  may  go  and  tell  the  others.  See  that  they  do  not  ask  me  any 
questions.  It  worries  me  and  don't  do  your  mistress  any  good." 

"  So  far  so  good,"  Mr.  Fox  said  to  himself  as  he  left  the  house 
and  took  the  direction  to  the  factory.  "  Still  there  is  another  task 
before  me,  and  Heaven  knows  how  I'll  get  through  that." 

"  Charlie,  can  you  come  to  the  office  for  a  minute?  I  have  a 
commission  for  you." 

Thus  Mr.  Fox's  voice  rang  through  the  building,  plainly  heard 
by  the  hands,  as  it  was  intended  it  should  be. 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir,"  Charles  responded,  a  load  being  taken  off  his 
mind  at  the  same  time.  Mr.  Wood  was  nowhere  and  George  was 
absent,  and  in  spite  of  Mr.  Fuchs'  efforts  to  keep  the  machinery  go 
ing  it  threatened  to  come  to  a  stand-still  every  minute.  For  that 
reason  Charles  felt  greatly  relieved  on  hearing  Mr.  Fox's  voice,  and 
stepping  briskly  over  the  yard  joined  him  in  the  office.  He  closed 
and  locked  the  door  behind  him,  and  then,  facing  his  companion, 
said  : 

*'  'Twas  high  time  for  you  to  come.  They  kept  asking  so  many 
questions  that  I  was  nearly  at  my  wit's  end." 

"  And  what  do  you  propose  to  do,  Charlie  ?  " 

"That  depends  on  the  result  of  our  investigation.  Mr.  Fox, 
have  you  the  keys  of  the  safe  ?  " 

"  Yes,  there  is  a  duplicate  in  my  possession.  Why  do  you  ask 
that?" 

' '  Will  you  please  open  the  safe,  then  ?  " 

Mr.  Fox  obeyed  his  injunction. 

"Now  look  for  the  money,  or  was  there  none?  " 


200  DOLORES. 

"  Yes,  Wood  showed  me  drafts  amounting  to  $10,000. 

"  Ah  !  "  Charles  said  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  "  so  much  the  better 
they  couldn't  be  cashed  without  your  endorsement." 

"  But,"  Mr.  Fox  stammered,  "  I  think  he  made  me  endorse 
them.  He  said  he  wanted  money  to  pay  off  the  hands." 

"That  is  bad,"  Charles  responded.  "  Please  look  for  them  at 
once." 

Mr.  Fox  did  so,  but  they  had  disappeared. 

"  I  thought  so,"  Charles  exclaimed. 

Mr.  Fox,  however,  did  not  take  it  so  coolly.  He  groaned  and 
sank  into  a  chair. 

* '  Eleven  thousand  dollars  !  ' ' 

u  I  wonder  it  isn't  more.  It  may  be  for  all  we  know.  Come, 
let  us  examine  the  books.  A  man  is  never  ready  to  act  until  he 
knows  the  worst." 

Mr.  Fox  assented.  The  books  were  run  over,  and  in  spite  of 
his  dejection  the  owner  could  not  help  admiring  the  quick  and 
comprehensive  glance  with  which  Charles  took  in  the  smallest  de 
tails.  In  less  than  an  hour  the  total  lay  before  them.  It  was  not 
at  all  flattering,  and,  as  Charles  had  suggested,  worse  than  Mr.  Fox 
was  prepared  to  expect. 

The  hands  in  the  factory  had  not  been  paid  for  nearly  a  month  ; 
pay-day  was  near  at  hand  and  no  money  in  the  treasury.  But  that 
was  not  all.  On  close  examination  Charles  found  several  letters  of 
the  firms  from  which  the  factory  was  in  the  habit  of  receiving  its 
steel.  These  letters  contained  polite  but  urgent  requests  to  settle 
certain  dues,  and  after  figuring  up  the  various  items  Mr.  Fox  found 
himself  indebted  to  the  one  firm  alone  for  more  than  $10,000. 
This,  together  with  the  sum  due  the  laborers,  threatened  to  exceed 
his  resources.  The  money  had  been  there  to  meet  these  contingen 
cies,  but  the  fraud  of  the  superintendent  had  created  a  total  deficit  of 
more  than  $24,000.  We  need  not  wonder,  therefore,  that  Mr.  Fox 
became  more  and  more  dejected,  and  expressed  to  Charles  his  con 
viction  of  the  uselessness  of  any  efforts  to  stem  the  tide. 

"  To  make  the  cup  full,"  he  said,  "  nothing  but  the  appearance 
of  the  revenue  officers  is  wanting.  Indeed,!  shouldn't  be  surprised 
to  see  them  enter  this  very  moment.  Nor  would  I  care.  My  honor 


DOLORES.  201 

blighted,  my  credit  gone,  what  does  it  matter  if  my  reputation  as  a 
law-abiding  citizen  is  destroyed  ?" 

t  Charles  was  alarmed  at  this  dejection.  He  could  not  help  be 
lieving  that  Mr.  Fox  in  his  heart  blamed  him  to  a  certain  degree 
and  in  a  measure  ascribed  his  misfortune  to  the  young  man's  secre 
cy.  If  he  could  only  cheer  him  up,  to  hold  out  a  few  days  until 
that  fatal  bar  would  be  taken  from  him,  then  he  would  at  least  be 
able  to  justify  his  own  conduct  and  maybe  even  render  Mr.  Fox 
material  assistance. 

"Now,  Mr.  Fox,  this  is  downright  wrong,  you  see.  No  good 
mariner  will  leave  the  vessel  as  long  as  he  has  the  prospect  of  hold 
ing  her  planks  together.  Our  case  is  not  so  bad  as  that.  True, 
we  have  sprung  a  leak,  but  I  am  confident  of  our  ability  to  stop  it. 
Cheer  up,  sir  !  Excessive  grief  is  neither  manly  nor  expedient ;  it 
becomes  us  better  to  take  measures  to  retrieve  our  fortune  than  ta 
lay  our  hands  in  our  laps  and  look  the  picture  of  despair." 

" But  what  would  jou  do ?  I  see  no  means  of  raising  at  short 
notice  the  large  amount  we  owe.  Indeed  by  the  bad  management 
of  the  establishment  my  credit  in  the  banks  has  already  suffered 
and  I  see  no  chance  of  raising  the  necessary  funds." 

"  There  is  nothing  like  trying,  Mr.  Fox.  Will  you  promise  to- 
make  an  effort?" 

"  Yes,  Charlie,  I  will,  but  for  that  purpose  I'll  have  to  pay  a 
visit  to  our  town,  or,  if  necessary,  even  to  the  city.  Before  I  leave, 
however,  I  must  take  steps  to  install  you  in  Mr.  Wood's  place." 

"Hadn't  you  better  appoint  my  father?  It  would  look  better 
and  I  could  still  assist  him  in  all  his  measures." 

' '  I  think  you  are  right,  my  boy.  Will  you  please  call  your 
father  in?" 

When  Mr.  Fuchs  appeared  he  was  informed  of  what  had  hap 
pened  and  what  was  to  be  done.  In  his  timidity  he  shrank  from 
the  great  responsibility  of  his  new  position  and  only  the  thought  of 
Charlie's  assistance  reconciled  him  to  the  arrangement.  The  three 
were  on  the  point  of  leaving  the  office  and  calling  the  hands 
together  to  acquaint  them  with  the  change,  when  Charles  stopped 
the  others,  saying  : 

' '  I  never  thought  of  it ;  shall  we  take  no  measures  of  bringing 


202  DOLORES. 

the  runaways  to  justice  ?  Perhaps  we  might  be  fortunate  enough 
in  such  a  case  to  recover  a  portion  of  the  booty." 

Mr.  Fox  shook  his  head. 

"I  have  thought  of  that,"  he  said,  "but  I  have  come  to  the 
conclusion  it  would  not  answer  for  certain  reasons  at  which  I  need 
but  hint,  My  wife's  reputation  is  at  the  scoundrel's  mercy  and  I 
am  afraid  he  would  have  little  scruples  to  threaten  her  in  order  to 
secure  impunity." 

Charles  saw  the  subject  pained  him,  so  he  abstained  from  touch 
ing  it  again.  All  the  hands  were  called  together  and  informed  of 
the  new  arrangement.  There  was  some  surprise  of  course  and  a 
good  deal  of  envy  and  jealousy,  but  Mr.  Fox  took  the  proper  course 
by  ignoring  these  manifestations  and  ordering  a  resumption  of  the 
work  as  if  no  change  had  at  all  occurred.  From  the  factory  he 
went  to  the  cottage,  where  no  remarkable  change  had  taken  place. 
What  little  change  there  was,  however,  was  for  the  better  and  Mr. 
Fox  felt  inclined  to  share  the  hope  of  the  girls  and  the  family  at 
the  cottage  that  his  wife  would  recover.  Hope?  Did  he  really 
hope  it  ?  Wouldn't  it  be  a  mercy  for  her  to  find  oblivion  in  the 
grave  ?  Would  it  not  be  a  mercy  for  him,  too  ?  At  times  a  bitter 
ness  of  heart  induced  him  to  believe  that  such  an  event  would  be 
acceptable,  nay,  even  agreeable  to  him  ;  but  at  other  times  again 
he  felt  angry  with  himself  and  persuaded  himself  that  he  wrould 
find  no  difficulty  in  verifying  Mrs.  Fuchs'  prediction,  namely,  that 
he  would  readily  pardon  her  great  offense. 

Thus  his  thoughts  vacillated,  when  he  left  the  cottage  to  pay  a 
final  visit  at  the  mansion.  His  adieu  to  his  daughters  had  been 
short  but  fervent.  A  kiss,  a  Godspeed,  a  pressure  of  the  hand  and 
one  parent  had  departed  to  leave  them  with  another  who  might  also 
depart  at  any  time,  depart  for  another  home,  never  to  return. 

Those  were  solemn  thoughts  that  filled  these  young  creatures, 
while  they  attended  to  the  duties  of  the  sick-room  ;  nor  did  the 
meditations  of  the  father  differ  much  from  theirs.  He  and  Lucy 
would  have  discovered  great  similarity  of  views  and  ideas  if  an  ex 
change  could  have  been  made  just  then.  Kind  though  Mr.  Fox's 
disposition  was,  gentle  as  we  have  found  Lucy  to  be,  neither  of 
them  had  the  genuine  charity  which  Dolores'  noble  soul  developed 
towards  the  unfortunate  woman.  And  vet  she  was  the  one  that  had 


DOLOEES.  203 

been  slighted  by  the  patient,  the  recipient  of  many  taunts  direct 
and  indirect,  expressed  and  intimated.  But  her  generous  heart  had 
kept  no  record  of  her  injuries,  and  when  her  enemy  lay  prostrate 
on  her  sick-bed  she  had  been  the  first  to  approach  her  without  a 
secret  shudder  at  her  pollution.  Dolores  hated  sin,  but  she  imita 
ted  the  example  of  the  founder  of  the  Christian  faith  who  warned 
the  people  not  to  condemn  others  unless  they  felt  themselves  free 
from  sin. 

And — strange  ! — the  patient  seemed  to  feel  what  her  delirious 
mind  was  unfit  to  comprehend.  She  preferred  the  presence  and 
assistance  of  Dolores  to  that  of  all  others  and  appeared  to  find  a 
great  relief  when  the  girl  laid  her  hand  upon  her  temple,  which 
burned  with  the  intense  heat  of  a  tumultuous  blood.  Strange  in 
deed  !  What  a  false  perception  a  willful  blindness  had  kept  asun 
der  in  the  days  of  prosperity  seemed  now  destined  to  be  joined 
together  by  the  bitter  but  salutary  lessons  of  adversity. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

A    NEW   REIGN. 

After  Mr.  Fox  had  left,  Charles  seized  the  reins  of  government 
in  the  factory  with  a  strong  hand.  While  father'and  son  endeavor 
ed  to  reconcile  their  former  fellow-laborers  by  kindness,  to  what 
they  must  necessarily  consider  as  a  great,  good  fortune,  they  suffer 
ed  on  the  other  hand  no  encroachment  on  the  prerogatives  of  the 
office.  These  were  not  theirs  but  inherent  to  the  place,  and  it  was 
not  their  business  to  introduce  innovations  which  might  affect  their 
successors.  On  the  whole  they  had  less  difficulty  than  they  expec 
ted,  and  this  Mr.  Fuchs  rightly  attributed  to  his  son's  influence. 
Charles  was  not  only  liked  but  he  was  also  esteemed  and,  what  goes 
farther  with  a  certain  class,  feared.  He  could  knock  down  the 
best  man  in  the  factory,  and  there  were  a  few  anecdotes  in  circula 
tion  which  showed  that  he  was  very  sensative  and  quick  to  strike 
when  insulted. 

Charles  had  received  carte  blanche,. indeed  he  would  not  have 


204  DOLORES. 

accepted  the  office  on  any  other  condition,  and  when  Mr.  Fox  had 
departed  he  at  once  adopted  the  policy  by  which  he  had  resolved 
to  be  governed.  Mr.  Fuchs  was  satisfied  with  anything  his  son 
might  suggest  and  so  the  first  measure  was  carried  into  practice 
without  delay.  He  sent  word  to  about  a  dozen  of  the  oldest  and 
most  influential  laborers  in  the  factory  requesting  them  to  meet 
him  in  the  office.  After  they  had  entered  and  seated  themselves 
he  communicated  in  concise,  sharp  outlines  such  features  of  the 
fraud  as  he  thought  best  for  them  to  know. 

Wood  and  George — strange  !  now  when  he  thought  of  it  he 
found  that  the  young  man  had  never  gone  by  any  other  name — 
had  defrauded  Mr.  Fox  to  the  amount  of  many  thousands  and  crip 
pled  him  sufficiently  to  make  the  meeting  of  all  dues  a  difficult 
matter.  Mr.  Fox,  he  said,  had  gone  away  to  raise  the  necessary 
funds,  but  times  were  dull ;  the  war  in  Italy  had  brought  on  a 
crises  and  money  was  scarce.  Now,  in  case  Mr.  Fox  should  not 
succeed  in  getting  enough  to  satisfy  everybody,  he  wanted  to  know 
whether  they  would  be  willing  to  do  a  little  for  their  employer  by 
giving  him  some  time  and  inducing  their  fellow  workmen  to  do  the 
same.  He  was  their  benefactor  and  the  benefactor  of  the  village 
and  the  man  that  could  point  out  any  injury  he  had  ever  received 
from  Mr.  Fox  was  yet  to  make  his  appearance. 

It  was  a  perfect  little  speech  he  made  them  and  it  was  well  re 
ceived.  The  sturdy  fellows,  with  their  blackened  hands  and  faces, 
declared  that  Mr.JFox  needn't  fret  on  their  account  add  that  they 
would  say  the  same  thing  for  their  comrades.  He  had  given  them 
a  chance  to  lay  by  a  little  and  they  could  get  along  well  enough 
even  if  payments  should  be  postponed  for  a  month  or  two.  They 
thanked  Charles  for  his  confidence  and  the  chance  he  had  given 
them  to  show  how  much  they  thought  of  their  generous  employer. 

"  So  far,  so  good,"  said  Charles  to  his  father  after  the  delegates 
had  left  the  office.  "  That  is  one  point  gained.  But  what  is  this  ?" 

He  had  taken  a  letter  which,  with  other  mail  matter,  had  arriv 
ed  a  little  while  ago.  "Ha!  George's  handwriting!  Listen, 
father,  to  what  the  scoundrel  has  to  say.  I  bet  he  is  going  to  sell 
his  partner"  : 

Charles  Fuchs,  Esq.— (the  fellow  addresses  the  letter  *o  me !  seems 
to  have  bad  considerable  forethought.)  DEAK  ISiR  : — (thank  you, 


DOLORES.  205 

sir,  I  would  rather  not  be  cleared  by  you.) — Having  been  compelled 
by  Mr.  Wood  (voluntary  sort  of  compulsion  I  guess)  to  participate 
in  an  act  which  never  had  my  approbation,  I  now  write  to  you  these 
lines  ro  offer  atonement  to  the  extent  of  my  ability.  I  have  in  my 
possession  valuable  papers  which  are  of  the  greatest  importance  to 
Mr.  Fox. — (I  bet  he  is  tue  messenger  that  was  to  see  the  revenue 
officers  and  now  proposes  to  sell  out  to  us) — If  you  should  feel  in 
clined  to  secure  these  papers  you  can  obtain  an  interview  with  me 
by  making  your  appearance  at  the  rock  called  the  Devil's  Needle — 
(I  have  no  doubt  the  fellow  feels  very  much  at  home  at  such  a  place) 
— a  place  of  which  you  have  doubtless  heard.  I  shall  give  you  time 
to  the  end  of  this  week.  If  you  fail  to  call  at  the  rendezvous  then  I 
shall  construe  your  non-appearance  into  a  refusal  of  my  offer  and  at 
once  make  use  of  the  papers  in  away  that  must  result  in  your  em 
ployer's  ruin.  Yours  respectfully,  (thank  you,  sir,  I'd  rather  be  de 
spised  by  the  like  of  you)  GEORGE. 

"George  Nobody,"  Charles  exclaimed,  waxing  warm,  "or 
rather  George  Arnold  ;  for  every  other  name  is  too  good  for  such  a 
traitor." 

"  And  you  think  he  holds  the  paper  which  Wood  mentioned  in 
the  letter  you  found  before  our  house  ?" 

"  Of  course  he  does.  He  cannot  know  that  we  see  through  his 
trick,  for  I  am  sure  he  has  not  the  least  idea  of  the  other  letter." 

"Wood  evidently  wrote  it  because  he  did  not  trust  his  own  ac 
complice,  and  we  would  never  have  got  sight  of  it  if  it  hadn't  been 
for  that  fortunate  accident  last  night." 

"Charles,"  his  father  admonished,  reproachfully,  "  how  can 
you  call  fortunate  what  put  a  human  life  in  jeopardy  ?" 

"Why  not,  father?  Is  it  not  better  that  she  should  have 
broken  her  neck  than  her  husband's  heart  and  ruined  his  reputa 
tion  in  the  bargain  ?  She  may  well  consider  herself  fortunate  to 
have  escaped  a  fearful  destiny  with  the  slight  penalty  of  a  few 
weeks'  confinement.  I  do  not  bear  her  any  grudge,  father,  indeed 
I  don't.  On  the  contrary,  I  hope  sincerely  that  this  accident  will 
prove  a  salutary  lesson  for  the  future." 

"  Amen  !"  Mr.  Fuchs  struck  in.  "  But  you  have  forgotten  to 
tell  me  what  you  mean  to  do  in  regard  to  this  communication  ?  ' ' 

"  Disregard  it,  of  course.  On  Sunday  my  time  is  up,  and  then 
— never  mind,  father.  Trust  me  another  week,  and  all  will  come 
out  right.  For  the  present  it  is  sufficient  that  a  second  cloud  has 
mercifully  passed  us  without  sending  the  destructive  thunderbolt* 
He  will  be  safe  from  the  revenue  officers  unless  Wood  should  deem 
proper  to  write  another  letter,  which  I  think  rather  improbable. 


206  DOLOKES. 

The  failure  of  the  attempt  to  abduct  Mrs.  Fox  must  have  been  a 
serious  shock  to  him,  and  may  debar  him  from  further  hostile  acts. 
How  he  must  have  hated  Mr.  Fox  to  do  him  so  much  injury." 

"  1  think  he  did  hate  him,  and  your  mother  actually  warned 
Mr.  Fox  a  couple  of  years  ago.  But  he  paid  no  heed  to  it,  and 
therefore  must  now  pay  the  penalty.  He  took  it  too  lightly  and  so 
did  you — pardon  me  for  saying  that  much — and  it  gives  me  much 
annoyance  to  think  that  you,  though  unintentionally,  should  have 
contributed  to  his  ruin." 

Charles  remained  unmoved. 

"Father,"  he  said,  "  would  it  not  be  a  little  more  charitable  to 
wait  a  while  before  pronouncing  judgment  on  my  actions  ?  I  need 
but  say  a  word  to  clear  me  of  your  accusations,  but  it  is  against  my 
conscience  to  say  that  word,  and  I  shall  leave  it  unsaid." 

"  Be  it  so,  Charlie,  be  it  so,"  his  father  answered  eagerly.  "  I 
take  your  word  as  readily  as  the  best  evidence  you  might  produce. 
Are  there  any  new  measures  you  contemplate  ?  " 

"  None,  father,  just  now.  We  must  work  up  the  raw  material 
judiciously,  neither  too  fast  nor  too  slowly.  We  do  not  know  how 
soon  Mr.  Fox  will  send  a  new  supply,  and  yet  it  would  not  do  to 
stop  the  hands  or  dismiss  a  few.  We  must  avoid  everything  that 
might  create  dissatisfaction." 

"That  is  true,  Charlie.  Fortunately  we  have  enough  on  hand 
to  do  us  three  or  four  weeks.  In  the  meantime  Mr.  Fox  will  likely 
send  us  more." 

"Exactly,  father,"  Charles  said,  with  a  brightening  counte 
nance,  "  or  I  make  a  big  haul  of  which  you  little  dream.  No  ques 
tions,  sir,  no  questions.  I  could  not  answer  them." 

'*  As  you  please,  Charlie,  but  I  must  go  and  make  the  rounds 
through  the  factory.  The  master's  eyes  make  the  horses  fat,  as  we 
say  in  German,  and  I  am  sure  it  is  so." 

With  these  words  he  left  the  office,  while  Charles  remained, 
throwing  himself  into  an  armchair  and  studying  the  situation  with 
a  zeal  that  surely  deserved  favorable  results.  And  to  judge  from 
his  appearance  he  found  results  that  were  tolerably  satisfactory,  for 
after  a  series  of  eager  nods  and  snappings  of  his  fingers  he  ex 
claimed  : 

' '  So,  that  will  do.    A  cunning  scoundrel  has  challenged  us  and 


DOLORES.  207 

staked  his  very  life  upon  the  issue  of  the  combat.  Well,  let  him 
try  his  worst.  We  know  his  cards,  and  his  highest  trumps  shall  be 
wasted  upon  our  cause,  as  the  blow  of  the  sword  that  bounds  back 
from  the  polished  shield  and  only  jars  the  arm  of  him  who  struck 
the  blow." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

LOVE   DAWNING LOVE   WANING. 

In  the  cottage  things  went  their  quiet  way.  No  noise  was  heard 
from  roof  to  cellar,  and  silence  thickened  and  became  tangible  in 
and  near  the  sick  chamber.  None  but  the  doctor  and  the  ladies 
were  allowed  admittance  to  the  room,  arid  of  them  not  more  than 
two  at  a  time.  The  patient  grew  better  and  worse,  or  rather  her  re 
covery  was  interrupted  and  retarded  by  spells  of  fever,  which  would 
return  at  regular  intervals.  At  such  hours  the  task  of  nursing  her 
was  not  very  easy.  It  did  not  only  strain  the  body — for  at  times 
the  patient  had  to  be  retained  on  the  bed  by  application  of  physical 
force — but  also  the  mind.  To  listen  to  the  ravings  of  the  giddy 
brain,  the  incessant  harping  on  the  sinful  love  that  had  caused  her 
flight  and  sickness  ;  the  passionate  appeals  to  her  seducer  to  release 
her  from  her  bonds,  and  the  sad  reproaches  of  a  guilty  conscience, 
all  these  things  could  not  be  listened  to  without  a  shock  upon  the 
hearer's  mind.  Lucy  was  evidently  sinking  under  it.  One  day, 
coming  from  the  room  she  threw  herself  into  Dolores'  arms  and 
burst  into  such  a  flood  of  passionate  tears  that  both  Dolores  and 
Mrs.  Fuchs  became  alarmed.  The  gentle,  even  disposition  of  the 
girl  was  so  foreign  to  these  passionate  gusts  that  their  appearance 
caused  her  friends  to  fear  a  serious  derangement  of  her  nervous 
system. 

"  I  cannot  stand  it  any  longer,"  she  cried  amitlst  her  sobs,  "  in 
deed  I  cannot.  When  I  hear  her  wild  appeals  to  that  wicked  man, 
her  earnest  supplications  for  forgiveness,  I  feel  as  if  I  sat  in  judg 
ment  upon  her.  I  try  to  bend  my  heart  to  sympathy  and  compas 
sion,  but  oh!  Dolores,  I  cannot  break  myself  to  feelings  of  indulg- 


208  DOLORES. 

ence  and  forgiveness.  Do  not  let  me  go  into  that  room  any  more, 
or  I  shall  lose  the  control  of  my  reason — yes,  grow  insane  without 
even  the  hope  ot  recovery. 

"  Still,  Lucy,"  Dolores  now  addressed  her,  drawing  the  quiver 
ing  form  nearer  to  her  heart  and  stroking  with  a  gentle  hand  the 
disheveled  hair.  "  Say  nothing  more  at  present,  and  weep  away 
the  burden  that  threatens  to  overpower  your  strength.  I  under 
stand  you,  child,  and  pity  you.  Of  course  you  must  not  watch  in 
that  room  any  longer  just  at  present,  at  least  not  when  she  wanders 
in  her  fever.  Leave  that  to  me,  Lucy,  and  Mrs.  Fuchs.  You  can 
do  a  thousand  little  things  out  here  and  in  the  kitchen  that  will  be 
just  as  welcome  as  your  vigils  in  the  sick-room.  Indeed,  if  you  had 
not  been  so  stubborn  on  your  coming  you  might  have  been  spared 
this  trial." 

"  Oh  !  Dolores,"  Lucy  answered,  raising  her  head  a  little,  "  I 
had  no  idea  what  it  is  to  sit  in  judgment  over  a  fallen  mother. 
Don't  these  ravings  ever  shock  you  ?  " 

"They  shock  my  reason  without  influencing  my  heart.  I  am 
far  from  feeling  any  aversion  to  your  poor  mother,  Lucy,  I  rather 
love  her  better  than  before,  for  1  pity  her  from  the  bottom  of  my 
heart,  and  compassion  engenders  affection.  Perhaps  it  is  selfishness 
that  makes  me  feel  so  ;  perhaps  I  feel  a  satisfaction  to  see  her  de 
scending  from  that  cold  reserve,  that  distant  coldness  to  which 
there  was  no  chance  of  access.  If  Mrs.  Fox  recovers,  and  there  is 
no  longer  any  doubt  of  it,  I  think,  I  hope  to  find  an  avenue  to  her 
heart  and  induce  her  to  receive  me  in  the  same  affection  with  which 
our  good  father  regards  me." 

"  And  you  can  really  forget  that  she —  Lucy  hesitated.  It 
seemed  impossible  for  her  to  clothe  her  thoughts  in  words. 

"  Stop,  Lucy,"  Dolores  said,  somewhat  sternly.  "  It  surely  is 
not  your  province  to  sit  in  judgment  on  your  mother's  failings. 
To  you  she  has  always  been  a  good  and  indulgent  mother.  But  it 
isn't  my  kind  and  gentle  Lucy  who  speaks  ;  it  is  a  foreign  voice  en 
gendered  by  this  overworking  of  your  mind  and  body.  Just  rest 
yourself  awhile  and  I  am  sure  these  sickly,  overstrained  notions 
will  vanish  of  themselves,  and  instead  of  grieving  at  your  injuries 
you  will  thank  a  kind  Providence  for  his  timely  interference." 

Lucy  did  not  reply,  but  from  the  lowered  brow  and  compressed 


DOLORES.  209 

lips  it  was  evident  that  she  was  as  yet  incapable  of  appreciating  the 
spirit  of  her  sister's  remarks.  When  Mrs.  Fuchs  came  out  a  mo 
ment  afterwards  Dolores  stated  Lucy's  wishes  to  her,  and  that 
motherly  friend  at  once  consented  to  the  change.  Indeed  she  was 
glad  of  it,  and  without  delay  took  Lucy  to  the  kitchen  in  order  to 
assign  her  tasks  that  would  employ  her  hands  without  taxing  her 
brain.  The  young  lady  was  not  a  very  expert  hand  in  this  new 
sphere,  as  her  mother  had  made  her  form  the  notion  that  work  of 
such  a  rough  description  was  rather  below  her  dignity,  but  she  was 
willing,  and  under  Mrs.  Fuchs'  guidance  did  well  enough.  ^ 

In  the  meantime  Dolores  had  taken  her  position  at  the  sick-bed. 
This  was  the  hour  when  Mrs.  Fox  was  at  the  height  of  fever  and 
must  'be  watched  with  double  care.  Dolores  seemed  destined  for 
such  Samaritan  office,  for  she  went  to  work  so  quietly,  so  unobtru 
sively  that  many  an  older  nurse  might  have  learned  from  her. 

"  Here,  here  !  give  me  your  hand  ! "  the  patient  cried,  fumbling 
eagerly  with  her  nervous  fingers.  "•  So,  that  does  me  good  ;  it  stops 
the  fire  within  me.  Lay  the  other  on  'my  head  ;  lay  it  on  quickly. 
Ha  !  how  that  cools.  You  know  I  am  doomed  to  burn  ;  yes,  burn 
forever,  because  I  listened  to  the  serpent  and  tasted  of  the  fruit  that 
is  forbidden.  Burn  !  burn  !  burn  !  ah  !  to  burn  forever.  Is  that 
thought  not  horrible  ?  Away  !  let  go,  let  go  !  I  want  to  drown  my. 
self  in  cooling  water.  Oh!  water,  water  ! ;' 

"  Yes,  here  is  water,  mother.  Come,  let  me  lift  your  head  that 
you  may  drink  with  greater  ease.  Does  it  refresh  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  does,  but  who  are  you  who  takes  such  compassion  on 
one  that's  doomed  ?  You  are  an  angle,  are  you  not  ?  ' ' 

"  No,  madam,  I  am  far  from  being  one.  I  am  only  Dolores. 
Don't  you  know  Dolores  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  do  know  her,  but  you  ain't  Dolores.  Dolores  is  away 
at  the  judgment  seat  to  testify  against  me.  Oh!  so  much  testimony 
will  crush  me.  They  will  heap  more  fire  upon  me  ;  more  fire,  more 
fire  !  " 

Again  Dolores  had  to  hold  the  patient  until  the  fever  abated 
and  total  relaxation  followed  the  unnatural  excitement.  Mrs.  Fox 
lay  with  closed  eyes,  and  her  breathing  was  so  faint  as  to  be  hardly 
perceptible.  Yet  Dolores  could  not  withdraw  her  hands.  When 
she  made  a  motion  for  that  purpose  the  weary  lids  of  the  sufferer's 


210  DOLORES. 

eyes  opened  a  little,  and  a  supplicating  glance  expressed  what  lan 
guage  could  not. 

'1  hus  several  days  passed  off,  bringing  only  the  slightest  changes 
of  improvement.  Finally,  on  the  fourth  day,  the  doctor  declared 
her  out  of  danger.  "  The  crisis  set  in  last  night,"  he  said,  "  and  a 
good  constitution  and  your  excellent  care  have  caused  the  scale  of 
life  to  sink.  The  fever  is  over,  and  the  patient  will  no  doubt  return 
to  consciousness  and  coherent  talk.  But  i.he  danger  is  by  no  means 
entirely  past.  She  will  ask  numerous  questions  which  must  be  an 
swered-  with  great  discretion,  for  the  slightest  shock,  excitement  or 
fright  may  bring  on  a  relapse  which  would  certainly  be  fatal.  It 
will  be  best  to  let  only  Dolores  be  about  her  for  the  present." 

"  Would  not  Lucy  answer  better  ?"  Mrs.  Fuchs  inquired.  ''Her 
face  is  more  familiar. ' ' 

"  That  may  all  be,  but  I  have  noticed  that  the  presence  of  Do 
lores  is  soothing  to  the  patient,  and  we  ought  to  take  the  hints  of 
nature  in  preference  to  our  own  opinion.  No,  let  Dolores  stay  with 
her  and  I  guarantee  that  all  will  soon  be  well." 

"  But  Dolores  is  killing  herself  with  this  everlasting  watching, 
doctor.  Don't  you  see  how  thin  she  looks?  " 

"Never  mind  my  looks,  aunty,"  Dolores  answered  with  a  laugh 
that  was  fresh  enough  under  the  circumstances.  "  I  am  not  the 
least  fatigued  and  can  stand  it  a  good  while  longer.  Hush!  she  is 
stirring.  You  talk  to  the  doctor,  I  must  go  in." 

When  she  took  her  seat  at  the  bedside  she  thought  she  noticed 
a  profuse  perspiration  on  the  forehead  of  the  patient.  At  this  she 
greatly  rejoiced,  since  the  doctor  had  said  that  everything  would  go 
right  if  only  that  symptom  would  make  its  appearance.  She  drew 
the  cover  higher  on  the  body  of  the  convalescent  to  keep  her  warm 
and  promote  the  perspiration.  While  she  was  doing  this  with  her 
head  and  shoulders  over  the  bed,  Mrs.  Fox  opened  her  eyes.  For 
the  first  time  they  looked  clear  and  intelligent,  wandering  over  the 
room  and  at  last  adhering  to  the  lovely  countenance  bending  over 
her.  She  smiled  and  with  feeble  accent  asked  : 

"Dol,  is  that  you?" 

The  girl's  eyes  shone  with  radiance.  Never  before  had  Mrs. 
Fox  called  her  by  that  familiar  name.  She  nodded  in  reply,  look 
ing  extremely  happy,  and  casting,  as  it  were,  the  reflection  of  her 


DOLORES.  211 

rosy  countenance  on  the  pale  cheeks  of  the  patient.  Mrs.  Fox 
closed  her  eyes  again — perhaps  she  was  unable  to  stand  so  much 
light  all  at  once — but  only  for  a  minute.  Opening  them  a  second 
time  she  said  : 

"  Where  am  I?" 

' '  With  friends,  dear  madam,  who  rejoice  at  your  recovery." 

u  I  have  been  sick  ?  " 

"  Yes,  madam." 

''Very  sick?" 

"  The  doctor  tells  us  so,  but  you  are  past  all  danger  now.  In 
deed,  the  doctor  said  you  would  be  free  from  fever." 

"  Good  girl.     But  this  is  not  my  room  ;  where  am  I  ?" 

Mrs.  Fox's  look  expressed  some  anxiety,  and  therefore  Dolores 
hastened  to  reply  : 

'•  Among  your  friends,  dear  madam,  let  that  suffice.  Come,  ask 
no  more  questions  now.  Here,  take  a  sip  of  this  cooling  lemonade 
I  have  prepared  for  you.  So,  that  will  do.  Now  close  your  eyes 
and  sleep  ;  I'll  keep  you  company." 

With  one  hand  she  stroked  the  patient's  face,  closing  the  weary 
eyes  that  yielded  readily  to  the  kind  persuasion,  and  with  the  other 
took  and  held  the  emaciated  fingers.  Soon  the  soothing  influence 
stole  over  the  weakened  frame.  The  eyes  closed  more  firmly,  the 
breath  increased  in  strength,  and  the  bosom  rose  and  fell  regularly. 
A  mysterious  fluid,  which  the  physicians  call  with  learned  names, 
but  which  is,  nevertheless,  a  mystery  to  them,  emanated  from  the 
nurse's  fingers,  and  creeping  along  the  thousand  nerves  of  the  con 
valescent,  imparted  to  them  new  tone  and  vigor.  Mrs.  Fox  slept 
soundly  for  more  than  an  hour,  and  in  the  meantime  Dolores  had 
to  sit  perfectly  still  and  continue  sending  the  stream  of  life  in  gentle 
waves  all  over  the  feeble  body.  At  length  the  patient  awoke  again, 
and  this  time  at  once  sent  out  her  glance  in  search  of  her  nurse. 
Having  found  her  she  let  it  dwell  upon  her  face  with  so  much  love 
and  fervor  that  it  went  into  the  girl's  innermost  heart  and  filled  it 
with  a  rapture  that  made  her  feel  like  shouting  with  delight.  Still 
she  remained  perfectly  quiet  until  Mrs.  Fox  began  : 

"  Dol,  tell  me  where  I  am.     I  feel  strong  enough  to  hear  it." 

Dolores  reflected  a  second.  By  hesitating  she  would  excite  the 
patient  more  than  by  a  prompt  statement  of  the  truth.  If  Mrs.  Fox 


212  DOLORES. 

should  try  to  make  deductions  and  further  inquiries,  it  would  still 
be  time  to  check  her  and  advance  the  doctor's  positive  orders  as  a 
screen  behind  which  to  retreat.  So  she  frankly  answered : 

"You  are  at  the  cottage,  madam  ;  you  know,  Mr.  Fuchs'  resi 
dence." 

' '  But  hew— " 

"  How  you  got  here,  you  mean  ?  That  is  hard  to  tell.  You 
must  have  wandered  from  our  house  in  a  fever,  for  you  were  found 
insensible  at  the  gate  here.  The  doctor  was  summoned  without  de 
lay,  and  he  pronounced  your  malady  typhoid  fever." 

Mrs.  Fox  listened  as  if  in  a  dream.  Slowly  her  memory  began 
to  act  and  she  gained  a  dim  vision  of  the  past.  But  that  statement 
of  Dolores'.  Was  she  deceiving  or  trying  to  deceive  ?  Firmly  she 
fastened  her  gaze  upon  the  girl's  features,  but  Dolores  knew  what 
was  at  stake,  and  with  heroic  courage  stood  the  test.  Mrs.  Fox 
seemed  satisfied  ;  a  sigh  of  relief  escaped  her  bosom,  and  dismissing 
a  vague  apprehension  she  delivered  herself  solely  to  the  new  love 
that  had  suddenly  sprung  up  within  Jier  bosom.  Tears  started  to 
her  eyes,  welling  up  spontaneously  from  her  heart,  and  she  tried  to 
lift  her  arms  as  if  she  wanted  to  fold  the  girl  in  her  embrace.  But 
she  was  too  weak,  and  the  name  of  her  nurse,  feebly  whispered,  was 
all  the  manifestation  she  was  able  to  make.  But  the  language  of 
love  speaks  eloquently  even  in  whispers,  and  no  sooner  had  Dolores 
heard  her  name  when,  sinking  on  her  knees  before  the  bed,  she 
kissed  the  emaciated  hands  and  said  : 

'•  Dear  Mrs.  Fox,  what  do  you  wish  ?  What  can  I  -do  for  you  ?" 

"I  want  you  to  call  me  mother''' 

11  My  mother!" 

A  deep  emotion  prevented  both  from  speaking,  but  when  Do 
lores  had  sufficiently  recovered  she  all  at  once  was  frightened  at  the 
thought  that  this  might  be  injurious  to  the  patient.  So  she  arose, 
and  wTith  a  beseeching  look  said  to  her  newly  gained  friend  : 

"Please  be  calm  now.  This  is  all  wrong,  and  Dr.  Palmer  will 
scold  me  for  neglecting  his  directions.  This  excitement  will  injure 
you,  mother." 

Poor  child  !  She  wanted  to  cure  the  patient  from  the  intoxica 
tion  under  which  she  labored,  and  yet  continued  to  apply  the  stiin- 
ulaut. 


DOLORES.  213 

Mrs.  Fox  shook  her  head  with  a  happy  smile. 

"Fear  nothing,  Dol,"  she  said.  ''This  will  not  hurt  me,  dar 
ling.  It  is  a  medicine  that  will  promote  my  convalescence.  I  feel 
it  does  me  good." 

"  So  much  the  better,  mother,  but  now  it  is  enough  and  you 
must  sleep  again.  Here  is  your  medicine,  it  is  time  to  take  it.  So, 
now  sleep  yourself  well.  I  shall  not  leave  you  for  a  moment." 

Mrs.-Fox  obeyed  her  like  a  child.  Holding  Dolores'  hand  as 
firmly  as  her  feeble  strength  permitted  she  closed  her  eyes  and  soon 
once  more  slumbered  towards  new  health  and  strength — yes,  towards 
a  new  life.  Poor  Dolores  had  to  sit  again  for  hours  without  a  mo 
tion,  for  sickness  is  very  apt  to  make  us  egotists  and  tyrants,  worse 
than  which  the  annals  of  history  cannot  show.  During  this  spell 
of  sleep  the  doctor  called,  but  being  fully  satisfied  with  the  appear 
ance  of  things  he  went  away  without  waking  the  patient. 

"  She  mends  faster  than  I  dared  to  hope, "  he  said  to  Mrs.  Fuchs 
and  Lucy,  "  and  I  sirfcerely  think  that  it  is  due  to  the  magnetic  in 
fluence  of  that  wonderful  girl  in  there.  If  Mrs.  Fox,  after  her  re 
covery,  does  not  hold  her  as  her  most  precious  jewel  she  does  not 
deserve  her  good  fortune  of  having  cleared  the  gates  of  death." 

He  went  away,  and  minute  after  minute  ran  by  m  wonted  haste, 
but  silently,  quietly,  as  if  they  feared  to  check  the  convalescence 
of  the  patient  in  the  sick-room.  The  clock  seemed  to  tick  more 
gently,  and  the  sunbeams  to  moderate  their  light.  It  was  late  in 
the  evening  when  Mrs.  Fox  awoke  from  her  second  nap.  As  usual 
her  eyes  went  in  search  of  Dolores.  Her  hand  by  a  gentle  pressure 
seemed  desirous  of  ascertaining  her  presence,  and  being  thus  satis 
fied  the  patient  said  : 

"  I  am  hungry." 

Sick  persons  are  like  children.  They  speak  their  wants  as  they 
feel  them.  It  seems  their  weakness  neutralizes  the  control  which 
artificial  training  has  acquired  over  our  instincts  and  feelings. 

"lam  glad  to  hear  it,  mother."  (It  seemed  to  give  her  so 
much  delight  to  use  that  word  that  she  lost  no  opportunity  to  put  it 
in.  "  Mrs.  Fuchs  has  prepared  the  nicest  gruel  for  you,  and  I  shall 
just  go  out  a  moment  to  fetch  it  in." 

"No,  Dol,  don't  go.  Can't  you  call  Lucy  in?  Where  is 
Lucy?" 


214  DOLORES. 

Dolores  had  expected  this  question  and  nerved  herself  for  it  be 
forehand.  She  had  so  far  succeeded  in  convincing  Mrs.  Fox  that 
the  motives  of  her  late  nocturnal  doings  had  not  come  to  light. 
This  conviction  seemed  to  have  soothed  the  patient,  and  Dolores 
considered  it  expedient  to  sustain  it  until  Mrs.  Fox  was  strong 
enough  to  decide  on  her  course  of  conduct.  If  she  wanted  to  make 
a  clean  breast  of  it  to  her  husband  it  was  in  her  power  to  do  so  ;  if 
on  the  other  hand  she  thought  best  to  bury  the  past  in  oblivion  the 
measures  of  Dolores  were  calculated  to  support  her.  Mrs.  Fuchs 
had  sanctioned  them  and  promised  to  inform  Lucy  and  induce  her 
to  conceal  from  her  mother  any  emotions  calculated  to  destroy  her 
assurance.  As  yet,  however,  Dolores  did  not  know  how  Mrs.  Fuchs 
had  succeeded,  and  this  uncertainty  induced  her  to  delay  a  meeting 
which  might  result  disastrously.  So  she  said  : 

"  She  must  not  see  you  for  a  little  while  yet ;  the  doctor  thinks 
an  interview  with  her  might  excite  and  therefore  injure  you.  The 
doctor's  veto  is  the  patient's  law  you  know,  mother,  and  you  must 
submit  to  it.  To  morrow  you  may  be  strong  enough  to  see  your 
daughter. ' ' 

After  finishing  Dolores  awaited  the  reply  of  Mrs.  Fox  with  a 
beating  heart.  What  if  she  should  fret,  if  she  should  insist  upon 
an  interview  before  the  wounded  feelings  of  her  daughter  had  had 
time  to  heal  ?  She  was  therefore  greatly  relieved  when  the  patient 
with  evident  indifference  acquiesced  in  the  decision  and  merely 
said  : 

"As  you  please,  child  ;  but  I  am  hungry,  very  hungry." 

"Oh  !  you  shall  eat,  mother,  of  course  you  shall.  Just  allow 
me  to  step  to  the  door  and  call  Mrs.  Fuchs." 

This  was  done,  and  a  minute  afterwards  the  hostess  entered  with 
a  little  dish  containing  the  promised  nourishment. 

"  Here  is  your  soup,  my  dear  madam,"  she  said,  without  any  in 
troduction,  acting  as  if  the  presence  of  the  convalescent  in  her  house 
was  a  matter  of  course.  "  Dol,  sit  on  the  bed  and  support  the  head 
of  Mrs.  Fox  while  I  feed  her  with  the  spoon." 

"  That  is  the  way  with  sick  folks,"  she  continued,  with  a  pleas 
ant  smile.  •'  They  are  like  little  children  and  have  to  be  fed.  They 
cry,  too,  sometimes,  when  they  don't  get  what  they  want,  but  as 
with  the  children  their  crying  makes  us  happy  because  it  indicates 


DOLORES.  215 

the  change,  the  return  to  health  and  strength.     How  do  you  like 
your  soup,  madam  ?  " 

"  It  is  so  good  ;  and  you  are  good  and  kind,  Mrs.  Fuchs.  I 
must  have  caused  you  great  annoyance." 

"  Tut,  tut !  don't  say  a  Word  about  it,  now,  unless  you  want  to 
make  me  scold  you.  The  little  trouble  is  of  no  account  compared 
with  the  happiness  it  gives  me  to  see  you  recover  under  my  hands, 
as  it  were." 

The  patient  smiled  ;  but  when  she  wanted  to  speak  Mrs.  Fuchs 
checked  her,  saying  : 

'Must  you  lie  still,  dear  madam,  and  don't  say  a  word.  We 
want  you  to  get  well  right  fast,  and,  to  secure  that  object,  must  in 
sist  on  rest  and  sleep.  Do  you  think  you  could  get  a  nap  after 
your  little  meal?" 

"I '11  try." 

And  she  did  try,  and  soon  her  regular  breathing  indicated  a 
sound  slumber.  Dolores  also  caught  a  little  sleep  ;  leaning  back  in 
a  rocking-chair,  the  patient's  hand  still  enclosed  in  hers,  she  lay 
and  slept  till  near  midnight,  when  the  voice  of  Mrs.  Fox  aroused 
her.  She  straightened  up  with  a  start,  and  the  look  she  cast  upon 
the  patient  bore  an  expression  of  anxiety.  Still  everything  was 
right. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  disturb  you,  Dol,  but  I  am  dying  with  thirst  ; 
will  you  please  reach  me  a  little  water  ?  " 

st  Of  course  I  will,  and  I  am  sorry  that  I  suffered  myself  to  be 
overcome  by  sleep." 

"  I  am  not  sorry,  Dol,  for  I  fear  you  are  wearing  your  strength 
away  by  these  incessant  vigils.  But  I  hope  I  shall  soon  be  well 
now,  and  then  we  shall  change  relations  and  I  shall  nurse  you  as 
you  have  never  been  nursed  before. ' ' 

*'  But  I  don't  want  to  get  sick." 

"  R  or  do  I  want  you  to,  but  I  shall  nurse  you,  sick  or  not  sick. 
I  shall  try  to  see  whether  I  cannot  spoil  you  a  little  bit.  To  tell 
you  the  truth,  Dol,  it  has  always  worried  me  to  see  you  so  nearly 
perfect,  and  so  little  subject  to  the  weaknesses  of  human  nature. 
Your  conduct  was  somewhat  of  a  mute  reproach  upon  my  short 
comings." 

"  Now  don't  talk  so,  mother  ;  partly  because  I  oughtn't  to  hear 


216  DOLORES. 

it,  and  partly  because  you  oughtn't  to  talk  at  all.  Suppose  you 
try  another  dose  of  sleep." 

' '  Yes,  my  dear  girl,  I  shall  obey  your  wishes,  but  is  there  none 
of  that  gruel  left  ?  I  feel  as  hungry  as  a  bear,  and  if  I  have  no 
gruel  I  might  make  an  attempt  at  you.  Oh  !  Dol,  I  love  you  so 
much  that  I  could  eat  you  up." 

Dolores  did  not  know  whether  she  was  more  delighted  at  these 
manifestations  of  affection  or  at  the  cheerful  character  they  bore. 
She  kissed  the  patient  repeatedly,  and  in  her  embraces  Mrs.  Fox 
passed  over  into  the  land  of  dreams. 

On  the  morning  her  improvement  was  even  more  visible.  She 
repeatedly  asked  for  her  daughter  Lucy,  and  Dolores  went  in  search 
of  her  in  order  to  ascertain  whether  it  would  be  safe  to  allow  an  in 
terview.  Lucy's  swollen  eyes  showed  that  she  had  wept  much,  but 
Dolores  found  her  much  more  calm  and  resigned,  and  in  answer  to 
her  inquiry  recei  ved  the  assurance  that  she  felt  strong  enough  to 
see  her  mother. 

The  girl  was  an  enigma  to  Dolores.  She  wondered  that  one  so 
feeble  in  intellect,  so  free  from  passions,  should  show  so  passionate 
a  repugnance  to  the  manifestations  of  weakness  in  others  She  did 
not  know  the  world  ;  if  she  had,  she  would  have  learned  that  it  is 
not  the  character  of  little  minds  to  be  tolerant  and  indulgent.  The 
greater  the  soul  the  wider  the  scope  of  vision  and  thought  ;  the 
greater,  also,  the  virtues  of  generosity  and  magnanimity. 

"  Come,  then,  Dolores  said  to  her,  "  your  mother  wants  to  see 
you.  Recollect,  however,  that  on  your  firmness  her  whole  chance 
of  future  happiness  depends.  Show  yourself  weak  and  you  will 
doubtless  plunge  her  into  a  sea  of  trouble  and  wretchedness  that 
may  only  cease  with  her  life." 

"  I  can  bear  to  see  her,  Dolores,"  Lucy  replied,  and,  indeed,  the 
girl's  countenance  bore  the  stamp  of  greater  resolution  than  one  was 
wont  to  see  there. 

When  the  two  entered  the  chamber  Mrs.  Fox  stretched  her 
hands  toward  them. 

"  My  daughters,  both  my  daughters,"  she  said  as  ardently  as  her 
weakness  would  allow.  "  I  am  happy,  indeed,  that  by  this  grievous 
affliction  I  was  enabled  to  increase  the  number  of  my  children." 

Neither  of  the  girls  spoke  a  word  in  reply.     Dolores  knelt  at  the 


DOLORES.  217 

bedside,  drawing  down  her  rather  unwilling  companion.  Once 
there,  however,  and  her  mother's  hand  resting  upon  her  head, 
Lucy  found  tears,  and,  weeping  bitterly,  felt  the  chill  of  her  heart 
melting  away  with  the  copious  stream  that  rolled  down  her  cheeks. 
Fortunately,  Mrs.  Fox  attributed  her  daughter's  tears  to  the  anguish 
of  the  days  of  danger  now  passed,  and  stroking  her  golden  curls, 
tried  to  comfort  her. 

"  Don't,  Lucy,"  she  said  ;  "our  friends  here  tell  me  that  I  am 
getting  well  and  I  know  from  my  feelings  that  they  do  not  deceive 
me.  Cheer  up,  then,  darling,  and  show  by  a  joyful  countenance 
that  you  rejoice  at  your  mother's  recovery." 

But  Lucy  could  not  persuade  herself  to  go  that  far.  To  smile 
would  be  as  much  as  saying  that  she  was  glad  and  happy,  and  in 
her  uncharitable  mood  such  a  deception  did  not  seem  justifiable  to 
ner.  To  stop  her  weeping  was  all  she  managed  to  accomplish  and 
the  rigid  features  of  her  countenance  might  have  struck  even  Mrs, 
Fox  as  something  strange,  if  she  had  not  always  been  accustomed 
to  a  negative  affection  in  her  daughter,  and  if  on  the  other  hand 
Dolores  had  not  attracted  her  attention  in  an  unusual  degree.  So 
the  interview  passed  off  without  any  evil  consequences,  Dolores  ex 
cusing  Lucy's  withdrawal  on  the  plea  of  household  affairs,  and  Mrs. 
Fox  accepting  the  excuse  with  a  coolness  rather  unaccountable  to 
the  foster  daughter.  When  Lucy  left  the  room  a  new  feeling  had 
nestled  in  her  heart,  a  feeling  so  bitter  and  tantalizing  that  she 
would  gladly  have  exchanged  it  for  the  previous  coldness.  Perhaps 
she  could  not  have  defined  it  herself  if  any  person  had  asked  her 
questions,  but  one  who  knows  the  human  heart  and  has  had  suffi 
cient  experience  in  the  fickleness  and  utter  inconsistency  of  its  emo 
tions  would  without  hesitation  have  told  us  that  jealousy  had  struck 
its  poisonous  fangs  into  Lucy's  bosom.  Jealousy  !  How  is  that  pos 
sible  ?  We  are  aware  that  jealousy  begrudges  the  participation  in 
a  boon  we  value  highly,  but  can  we  also  fall  a  prey  to  that  passion 
if  a  stranger  shares  with  us  the  affection  of  a  party  we  little  love  ? 
The  case  of  Lucy  seems  to  answer  in  the  affirmative,  and  we  can 
but  wonder  at  this  strange  contradiction  of  her  feelings.  Or  could 
it  be  barely  possible  that  her  mother's  love  again  rose  in  her  esti 
mation  in  proportion  as  she  saw  the  danger  of  a  stranger's  appropri 
ating  to  herself  the  fairest  portion  ?  Children  often  value  toys  be- 


218  DOLORES. 

causo  other  children  possess  them,  and  for  the  same  reason  covet 
things  which  they  themselves  had  frequently  rejected  with  disdain. 
In  one  respect  Lucy  was  a  child,  but  this  new  passion  took  away 
from  her  the  harmlessness  of  childhood.  Alas  !  poor  Dolores  little 
dreamed  that  she  only  gained  a  mother's  love  at  the  expense  of  a 
sister's  affection. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

THE    CAVE     AGAIN. 

Four  days  had  passed  without  bringing  Mr.  Fox  or  even  a  let 
ter  or  dispatch  from  him.  The  convalescent  had  been  cautiously 
informed  of  her  husband's  absence,  and  the  communication  had  evi 
dently  affected  her  much  more  than  the  first  interview  with  her 
daughter.  Still  she  received  in  resignation  the  daily  reports  of  his 
prolonged  absence,  and  made  it  difficult  for  her  friends  to  learn 
whether  she  looked  with  fear  or  hope  towards  the  hour  of  their  re 
union. 

Not  so  with  Charles.  He  had  cause  to  wish  Mr.  Fox's  presence 
for  many  reasons.  Letters  of  importance  were  received  every  day, 
that  had  to  be  answered  without  delay,  and  Charles  began  to  under 
stand  that  the  management  of  such  an  establishment  requires  some 
thing  more  than  mere  energy  and  intelligence  ;  to  be  successful  the 
manager  must  have  experience,  and  that  qualification  time  alone 
can  give.  Fortunately  his  father  had  this  requirement  in  a  high 
degree,  and  under  ordinary  circumstances  the  partnership  might 
have  answered  very  well.  But  the  whole  mechanism  had  got  out 
of  order  by  Woods'  fault,  and  Mr.  Fuchs  regularly  shrank  from 
measures  which  his  judgment  had  acknowledged  as  equally  neces 
sary  and  daring.  The  fact  that  they  had  not  made  the  circum 
stances,  and  that  the  circumstances  left  not  the  shadow  of  a  choice, 
did  not  console  Mr.  Fuchs  much,  and  he  labored  under  his  respon 
sibility  like  a  vessel  that  carries  too  great  a  pressure  of  canvas  on  a 
disproportionate  mast. 

But  if,  for  his  fathers  sake,  Charles  was  anxious  to  see  Mr.  Fox 


DOLORP:S.  219 

return  with  a  pocket  full  of  money  to  satisfy  pressing  creditors,  he 
had  within  himself  a  romantic  element  which  delighted  in  extraor 
dinary  situations,  and  looked  for  channels  of  assistance  which  the 
ordinary  world  would  have  ridiculed.  The  diary  of  his  female  an 
cestors  and  the  letter  of  Eberhardt  containing  the  allusion  to  a  tes 
tament  had  never  entirely  deserted  his  mind.  Even  in  the  pressure 
of  business  Charles  saw  tempting  visions  dancing  before  his  mental 
eye,  and  it  was  only  by  a  firm  resolve  that  he  banished  them  suffi 
ciently  to  allow  himself  to  attend  to  other  and  more  important  mat 
ters.  His  excitement,  of  course,  increased  as  the  day  approached 
that  freed  him  from  all  obligations  of  secrecy.  The  evening  before 
he  had  found  an  opportunity  to  whisper  to  Dolores  that  he  wanted 
her  company  for  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day.  But  wanting  and 
obtaining  are  two  different  things,  so  Charles  thought  best  to  take 
the  matter  in  his  own  hands  and  work  it  to  the  desired  issue. 

"Mother,"  he  said  after  supper,  "it  is  a  shame  the  way  you 
confine  Dolores  to  the  sick-room." 

"But,  Charlie,  Mrs.  Fox  will  not  let  her  go  ;  she  seems  to  be 
unable  to  get  along  without  her." 

"  If  she  is  no  more  reasonable  she  will  have  to  do  without  her, 
for  this  constant  strain  will  make  her  sick.  As  long  as  Mrs.  Fox 
was  in  danger  I  didn't  object  taking  the  absolute  necessity  as  a  con 
solation.  But  now  she  is  out  of  danger,  and  I  do  most  decidedly 
object." 

Mrs.  Fuchs  smiled. 

"  Charlie,  what  are  you  driving  at?  Why  don't  you  come  for 
ward  like  a  man  and  tell  your  mother  what  you  want  ?  " 

Charles  blushed  slightly. 

"  Want?"  he  said,  "  nothing  particular,  but  I  want  Dolores  to 
have  air  and  exercise." 

' '  And  propose  for  that  purpose — 

"  A  boat-ride  on  the  ocean.     I  know  she  likes  that  well — " 

"  And  I  know  that  Mr.  Charles  likes  that  just  as  well,  and  that 
I  was  right  in  thinking  that  some  selfish  motive  was  lying  at  the 
bottom  of  all  this  philanthropic  talk." 

Charles  had  to  laugh  in  spite  of  himself. 

"  You  are  to©  smart  for  me,  mother,"  he  said.  "  But  suppos 
ing  you  were  right,  I  don't  see  that  that  alters  the  case  any.  Dol 


220  DOLORES. 

needs  air  and  exercise,  and  it  matters  little  in  whose  company  she 
enjoys  them." 

"  You  are  right,  Charlie,  and  I'll  try  to  second  you  in  this  af 
fair.  When  do  you  want  Dol  ?  " 

"  To-morrow,  after  dinner.  I  could  not  well  be  absent  from 
the  factory  a  whole  day." 

"Xor  she  from  the  cottage." 

"  Well,  then,  let  us  have  the  afternoon.  But  mind,  I  want  no 
company  ;  neither  Henry  nor  uncle  Jacob." 

"  That  is  a  pity  ;  Jacob  is  getting  so  bothersome  in  the  house,  I 
would  gladly  spare  him  for  a  whole  day." 

' '  Well,  if  you  promise  to  disengage  Dolores  I  shall  free  you. 
from  uncle  Jacob  for  a  whole  day.  All  I  have  to  do  is  to  send  him 
on  a  fool's  errand. ' ' 

"  Be  careful  how  you  treat  him,  Charlie.  He  is  your  father's 
brother,  and  though  not  exemplary  in  everything  is  entitled  to  re 
spect." 

"Oh!  I  respect  him  hugely.  So  much,  indeed,  that  I  would 
never  go  near  him  if  I  could  help  it.  Still  he  must  be  borne  with, 
that's  a  fact.  He  knows  the  circumstances  of  Mrs.  Fox's  sickness, 
and  could  do  her  infinite  harm  if  he  chose  to  set  his  tongue  in  mo 
tion." 

"True  enough  ;_!  never  thought  of  that ;  a  double  reason  to 
treat  him  with  due  caution." 

"I  shall  be  careful,  mother.  But  he  is  very  intimate  with 
Henry  ;  if  any  mischief  is  brewing  it  will  surely  spring  from  this 
union  of  two  kindred  spirits." 

"  You  are  hard  on  your  brother." 

"  I  cannot  help  it,  mother.  It  makes  me  impatient  to  think  of 
that  lazy,  good-for  nothing  drone.  1  wonder  where  he  got  his  love 
of  idleness  ?  It  surely  is  in  neither  you  nor  father.  He  must  have 
got  it  from  his  uncle." 

"  May  be  he  has.  lam  glad  you  mention  this  matter,  for  I 
shall  now  have  my  eyes  upon  them." 

"  It  will  do  no  harm,  mother,  though  for  the  present  I  have 
managed  to  secure  uncle  Jacob's  sympathy  in  our  behalf.  Unless 
he  finds  it  to  his  advantage  to  secure  my  enmity  he  will  be  careful 


DOLORES.  221 

to  abstain  from  all  gossip  in  regard  to  Mrs.  Fox.  I  forebade  him 
to  even  make  Henry  his  confidant." 

The  conversation  closing  Mrs.  Fuchs  went  to  the  sick-room  for 
the  purpose  of  reconnoitering  the  ground  and  making  preparations 
for  a  general  assault  upon  the  fortress.  An  hour  afterwards  she  re 
turned  and  made  Charles  happy  by  the  assurance  that  the  excur 
sion  had  already  been  decided  upon,  and  that,  other  circumstances 
being  favorable,  the  convalescent  would  hardly  raise  any  objections. 

In  consequence  of  this  communication  Charles  without  de'ay  en 
tered  upon  an  activity  that  was  as  noiseless  as  it  was  efficient.  Go 
ing  to  his  workshop  he  secured  a  revolver,  with  the  necessary  am- 
unition,  and  various  tools,  adapted  to  digging  in  the  ground. 

With  the  revolver  in  his  pocket  and  the  tools  on  his  shofllder 
he  managed  to  leave  the  house  and  reach  the  boat  unseen.  There 
he  put  all  the  articles  in  a  locker  and  then  with  a  lighter  heart  re 
turned  home  to  wait  for  the  momentous  hour. 

That  night  Charles  did  not  sleep  much.  Slowly  the  hours  of 
darkness  passed  away,  and  the.  morning  hours  in  the  office  of  the 
factory  not  much  faster.  At  last  the  whistle  proclaimed  the  mid 
dle  of  the  day  and  Charles  walked  to  the  cottage  so  quickly  that 
Mr.  Fuchs  could  hardly  keep  up  with  him. 

The  young  man  was  still  afraid  that  something  would  happen 
to  spoil  the  double  pleasure  in  prospect,  and  when  at  last  dinner 
was  over  and  Dolores,  with  a  becoming  blush,  presented  herself  to 
him  as  ready  for  the  excursion,  he  hardly  accepted  it  as  a  matter 
of  fact  but  rather  as  an  illusion  that  would  float  into  shapeless  mist 
on  the  first  contact  with  reality.  But  when  they  left  the  cottage 
and  walked  towards  the  bay,  her  arm  leaning  for  support  on  his 
own  as  of  old,  he  became  tolerably  well  assured  that  he  was  not 
dreaming  and  displayed  a  gay  humor  which  was  in  keeping  with 
the  occasion  and  the  day.  The  latter  was  a  copy  of  the  one  that 
had  witnessed  their  first  joint  sail" upon  the  sea,  shining  with  all  the 
brilliancy  and  radiance  of  the  northern  autumn.  Dolores  could 
not  help  recalling  the  adventures  of  that  eventful  day.  How  things 
had  changed  since  !  How  some  actors  had  left  the  stage  to  make 
room  for  others !  How  she  herself  had  grown  and  changed  !  Yet 
she  was  to  embark  in  the  very  boat  that  bore  her  then  and  the  same 
nimble,  handsome  youth  that  led  her  steps  two  years  ago  was  at 


222  DOLORES. 

her  side.  But  Henry  ?  His  absence  caused  her  thoughts  to  turn 
upon  him. 

"  Where  is  Henry?"  she  asked  her  friend  ;  "  did  he  refuse  to 
accompany  us  ?  If  I  recollect  right  I  have  seen  neither  him  nor 
your  uncle  in  the  cottage  at  breakfast  or  dinner." 

Charles  laughed. 

' 'They  had  no  time  to  wait  for  breakfast  this  morning,"  he 
said,  "  so  they  took  a  bite  and  started  off  at  a  good  speed." 

11  But  where  did  they  go?" 

1 '  To  chase  a  wild  goose  and  ride  uncle's  hobby." 

"  You  mean  to  hunt  the  testament?" 

'^Exactly.  I  told  them  that  ten  miles  from  here  there  is  an  old 
lawyer  nearly  seventy  years  of  age  who  has  always  had  a  great 
practice  and  is  more  likely  to  know  of  any  such  instrument  in  case 
it  does  exist,  than  any  other  man  of  his  profession.  To  put  uncle 
on  the  scent  was  all  that  was  required  ;  so  he  shot  off  like  a  well 
trained  pointer  and  by  this  time  undoubtedly  is  boring  old  Mr. 
Sharp  to  death  with  his  questions." 

"  But,  Charlie,  will  oui  expedition  be  any  less  of  a  wild  goose 
chase  than  theirs  ?" 

"Yes,  Dol,  considerably.  We  know  at  least  the  nest  of  the 
bird  and  if  we  fail  to  find  any  eggs  there  we  will  at  once  be  satisfied 
that  there  is  no  use  in  hunting  them  at  any  other  place.  But  here 
is  the  boat,  Dol.  Jump  in  while  I  erect  the  mast  and  loosen  the 
chain." 

Soon  the  boat  was  in  sailing  trim  and  the  pair  started  on  their 
errand.  This  time  the  straight  course  to  the  rocky  island  was 
struck  and  that  reached  the  entrance  to  the  wider  channel  was 
gained.  Here  the  sail  was  taken  down  and  the  oar  substituted 
and  assisted  by  his  previous  knowledge  Charles  soon  reached  the 
last  basin  before  the  cave.  On  their  way  they  had  found  the  track 
clear  ;  no  sign  of  any  vessel  had  shown  itself  and  Charles  was, 
therefore,  reasonably  certain  that  they  would  this  time  remain  un 
molested  by  foreign  intruders.  Still  he  thought  best  to  prepare  for 
the  worst ;  so,  opening  his  chest,  he  armed  himself  with  his  revol 
ver,  placing  it  ready  for  immediate  use,  and  after  that  took  out  the 
tools. 


DOLORES.  223 

"Now,  Dol,  look  out  for  your  head,"  he  said,  "  we  are  going  to 
cross  the  Rubicon." 

The  boat  entered  the  fissure  and  half  a  minute  afterwards  they 
once  more  swam  on  the  basin  within  the  cave.  There  was  the  same 
old  beautiful  twilight,  the  somber  shade,  the  trembling  streaks  of 
light  on  the  walls,  the  looming  vault,  the  deep  mysterious  silence. 
The  recollection  of  the  first  visit  and  the  exciting  adventure  rose 
so  vividly  within  their  minds  as  to  cast  its  shadow  to  the  present 
hour.  They  could  not  help  feeling  a  little  nervous,  and  Charles 
said  : 

"Come,  Dol,  let  us  go  to  work.  If  we  indulge  too  long  in 
contemplations  of  the  beauty  of  this  place  we  shall  get  so  senti 
mental  as  to  be  unfit  for  any  emergency  that  may  arise.  There, 
give  me  your  hand  now  to  alight.  What  beautiful  sand  this  is." 

"  Yes,  fit  to  grace  the  halls  of  any  king  of  old.  What  do  you 
mean  to  do  now?" 

' '  I  mean  first  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  rear  cave.  I  put  a  dark 
lantern  in  my  pocket  that  will  now  do  us  good  service." 

He  set  to  work  lighting  the  lantern  and  meanwhile  Dolores 
asked  him  what  he  expected  to  find  there. 

' '  I  have  reasons  to  believe  that  the  cave  contains  a  cargo  of 
steel.  Wood  left  it  there  to  serve  as  a  trap  for  Mr.  Fox  to  fall  in 
to  ;  instead  of  that  it  shall  do  us  good  service  and  partly  indemnify 
us  for  the  superintendent's  rascalities.  But  we  must  not  sell  the 
bear's  hide  before  we  catch  the  animal ;  so  away  with  speculations. 
Come,  Dol,  reach  me  your  hand  and  forward  into  the  jaws  of 
hades !" 

Charles  laughed  but  started  a  little,  when  his  mirth  awoke  a 
loud  echo  in  the  cave  that  filled  it  with  its  vibrations. 

"Listen  !  the  spirits  of  the  cave  are  mocking  you  !" 

' '  Let  them  mock  ;  if  they  only  resign  to  us  the  treasures  in 
their  care." 

"  But  people  say  treasures  are  watched  by  evil  malignant  spirits; 
it  would  hardly  do  to  provoke  their  ire." 

"  I  do  not  fear  them  as  long  as  my  good  spirit  is  leading  me." 

"  Wlrs~,  Charlie,"  Dolores  answered  with  a  laugh,  "if  that  com 
pliment  refers  to  my  humble  person  you  had  better  reverse  your 


224  DOLORES. 

figure  of  speech.  If  my  senses  do  not  deceive  me  I  am  a  spirit  led 
not  leading" 

The  young  man  had  no  time  to  answer  to  her  raillery,  for  they 
had  in  the  meanwhile  traversed  the  passage  and  now  stood  within 
the  second  cave.  Charles  opened  his  lantern  and  when  its  "light 
shot  through  the  spacious  vault  a  shout  of  joy  burst  from  his  lips. 
Piled  up  in  formidable  rows  large  numbers  of  the  well-known 
boxes  displayed  themselves  to  their  view.  Charles  could  not  in  a 
moment  form  an  estimate  of  their  value,  but  he  knew  that  they 
were  very  valuable,  and  that  if  he  appropriated  them  for  his  em 
ployer  he  would  find  nobody  to  dispute  his  claims.  But  the  sword 
of  Damocles  was  still  hanging  over  their  heads  and  an  untimely 
visit  on  the  part  of  the  revenue  officers  was  apt  to  spoil  their  game. 
Opposed  as  the  young  man  was  to  smuggling  he  claimed  the  right 
of  Mr.  Fox  to  appropriate  this  cargo  of  steel  on  account  of  the 
losses  he  had  sustained  by  the  superintendent's  fraudulent  transac 
tions.  He  did  not  know  the  shipper  and  did  not  care  to  learn  his 
name.  If  he  was  bold  enough  to  come  and  advance  his  claims 
then  it  would  still  be  time  to  consider  the  expediency  of  surrender 
ing  the  goods  or  pay  for  them. 

This  reasoning  might,  perhaps,  not  have  stood  the  test  of  logic, 
but  it  \vas  natural  under  the  circumstances  and  such  as  a  fair- 
minded  person  would  hardly  have  objected  to. 

"  I  must  engage  a  fewr  trusty  persons  to  land  this  cargo,"  Char 
lie  remarked  to  his  companion;  "it  would  be  too  dangerous  to 
leave  it  here  any  length  of  time." 

"  But  does  it  belong  to  us,  Charlie  ?" 

"  I  think  it  does.  It  has  certainly  been  paid  for  by  money  out 
of  Mr.  Fox's  pocket.  We  cannot  think  of  relinguishing  it  now." 

"  Well,  you  know  best ;  what  next  do  you  intend  to  undertake?" 

"Oh,  yes  ;  I  am  glad  you  put  me  in  mind  of  it.  We  must 
now  search  for  uncle  Eberhardt's  last  will  and,  maybe,  treasures." 

"  And  you  have  really  hope  of  finding  it?" 

"  Why  not,  Dol  ?  It  was  made  ;  we  know  that  from  his  own 
testimony.  It  was  not  recorded,  or  the  books  of  some  court  or 
other  would  contain  it ;  why  then  not  think  that  it  may  be  hidden 
in  a  place  where  the  writer  found  a  sudden  death  ?" 

"  And  where  do  you  think  of  searching  first?" 


DOLOKES.  225 

"There,  where  the  skeleton  is  lying  in  the  front  cave." 
"  Bah  !  I  shudder  at  the  idea  of  disturbing  the  pirate's  remains." 
"  The  thought  is  not  pleasant,  but  it  must  be  entertained  and 
acted  upon  if  we  want  to  make  any  discoveries.  Just  think  of  him 
returning  from  the  cave  !  Hardly  able  to  stand  he  reaches  the 
precincts  of  the  cave.  He  lands  and  sinks  upon  the  ground  ;  the 
blood  is  oozing  from  his  wounds  in  spite  of  all  efforts  to  stop  its 
flow.  He  grows  weaker  and  with  approaching  death  the  burning 
passion  of  his  restless  heart  flames  up  once  more  with  its  former 
brilliancy.  His  thoughts  turn  to  the  love  of  his  youth.  The  testa 
ment  in  which  he  gave  his  all  unto  her  children  comes  foremost  in 
his  mind.  Reason  is  already  waning  and  instinct  becomes  supreme. 
Like  the  faithful  dog,  entrusted  with  the  keeping  of  a  treasure, 
he  gathers  the  last  strength  to  make  an  effort  of  reaching  the  spot 
where  the  will  is  buried.  The  task  is  painful  in  the  extreme,  but 
he  bends  an  iron  will  to  its  achievement  and  he  succeeds.  He 
covers  the  ground  where  his  secret  dies  with  him  and  with  a  sigh 
of  relief  his  soul  departs  from  his  body." 

"  Ah  !  you  paint  vividly,  Charles,"  Dolores  whispered  with  a 
shudder,  having  grasped  her  companion's  arm  more  firmly  as  he 
proceeded.  Methinks  I  see  him  now.  Say  nothing  more  about  him, 
please.  I  am  not  superstitious,  you  know,  but  I  feel  as  if  your  elo 
quent  description  could  conjure  his  spirit  into  life." 

"  Well,  you  shall  have  your  way,  Dol.  I  do  not  wish  to  disturb 
his  soul,  unless  it  is  like  that  of  the  Spanish  licentiate- which  was 
buried  on  the  wayside.  You  recollect  the  clever  student  who  lifted 
his  soul  in  the  shape  of  genuine  doubloons.  To  such  a  resurrection 
I  should  have  no  objections  whatever.  But  really,  we  chat  as  if  it 
was  our  object  to  talk  us  into  courage.  Come,  now,  let  us  begin  or 
we  shall  not  get  through  to-day." 

With  these  words  he  retraced  his  steps,  carrying  the  lantern  in 
one  hand  and  leading  Dolores  by  the  other.  Having  reached  the 
front  cave  he  blew  out  the  lantern,  the  sunlight  creeping  through 
the  fissures  of  the  rocks  illuminating  it  sufficiently  for  his  purpose. 
Then  taking  a  shovel  he  approached  the  spot  where  the  decaying 
skeleton  was  lying.  He  felt  an  unpleasant  sensation  creeping  over 
his  body  when  the  tool  touched  the  first  bone,  but  nerving  himself 
and  laughing  at  his  own  folly  he  went  to  work  with  a  zest  that  soon 

15 


226  DOLORES. 

accomplished  his  purpose.  When  the  place  was  cleared  the  young 
man  stopped,  and  begging  his  companion  to  come  up,  laid  the  pick 
in  her  hand. 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  better  than  you  in  the  way  of  superstition," 
he  said  gayly.  ''Just  drive  in  the  pick  for  a  beginning  ;  it  will 
bring  me  good  luck." 

She  complied  with  a  light  laugh  and  then  returned  the  tool, 
which  he  handled  with  a  good  will.  But  the  ground  was  dry  and 
loose,  and  he  soon  found  that  the  shovel  would  do  the  work  alone. 
Throwing  the  sand  to  one  side  he  had  penetrated  to  the  depth  of  a 
foot  and  a  half  when  the  shovel  struck  on  something  solid.  Dolores 
heard  it,  and  in  her  excitement  could  not  prevent  a  light  cry  from 
escaping  her  lips.  Charles  did  not  cry,  but  he  was  hardly  less  af 
fected  and  was  obliged  to  stop  work  for  a  moment. 

"  There,  see  what  a  fool  I  am,"  he  said,  stretching  his  trembling 
hand  towards  Dolores.  "  Simply  because  my  shovel  strikes  a  body 
that  may  be  nothing  but  a  board  or  worthless  box,  I  fall  a  prey  to 
an  excitement  of  which  I  ought  to  be  ashamed." 

''But  you  surely  struck  upon  a  box,  Charlie,"  she  said, 
eagerly. 

"Well,  supposing  I  did,  child,  where  is  the  difference?  We 
study  the  works  of  ancient  and  modern  philosophers  ;  we  cant  upon 
the  vanity  of  gold,  and  yet  when  we  catch  a  mere  glimpse  of  its 
lustre  we  go  into  ecstacies  and  forget  our  lessons  like  the  poodle 
does  his  tricks  when  he  sees  a  chance  at  mutton  chops." 

"But  why  don't  you  proceed,  Charlie  ?" 

"Talking,  Dol?" 

' '  No,  digging,  sir  ;  you  know  very  well  what  I  meant." 

"  I  stop  for  two  reasons,  Dol.  First,  I  want  to  punish  you  and 
myself  for  this  want  of  equinimity,  and  secondly,  I  want  to  steady 
my  nerves  for  further  efforts.  If  I  give  way  at  the  sound  of  an  old 
board  where  will  I  be  when  my  eye  lights  on  treasures  like  Alad 
din's?" 

"  Charlie,  I  never  knew  what  a  great  talker  you  could  be." 

"That  will  do,  Dol.     Say  nothing  more,  for  here  goes." 

Again  the  sand  flew  from  the  hole,  and  a  repeated  striking  on 
the  substance  underneath  gave  proof  beyond  a  doubt  that  it  was  a 
board  in  a  horizontal  position  which  impeded  their  progress.  In  her 


DOLORES.  227 

zeal  to  see  Dolores  came  nearer  and  nearer,  and  both  she  and  Charles 
had  by  this  time  lost  every  recollection  of  the  bones.  They  began 
to  feel  that  strange,  mysterious  influence  which  magic  gold  exer 
cises  over  the  calmest  of  men.  Mind,  they  didn't  know  as  yet 
whether  they  would  strike  a  golden  vein  or  not ;  the  mere  prospect 
was  sufficient  to  make  their  eyes  sparkle,  their  nostrils  widen  like 
the  steed's  that  scents  the  bloody  battle.  The  bloodhound  can  not 
more  eagerly  pursue  the  track  of  the  runaway  than  man  follows  up 
the  track  of  gold.  Yes,  gold  is  powerful  on  earth,  more  powerful 
than  we  might  wish  for  the  sake  of  mankind  ;  but  no"  teaching  of 
philosophy  nor  preaching  of  the  gospel  will  much  affect  the  case.  I 
am  pretty  sure  that  if  such  a  chance  should  present  itself  to  me  just 
now  I  should  lay  down  my  pen,  and,  stopping  these  reflections, 
grasp  for  the  precious  metal  as  greedily  as  most  other  persons. 

Charles  and  Dolores  were  noble  specimens  of  their  kind,  and  if 
the  good  and  virtuous  are  thus  affected  by  the  thought  of  gold, 
what  may  we  expect  of  the  worshippers  of  sin  and  mammon  ?  Is 
it  a  wonder  that  so  many  crimes  are  committed  in  the  diggings  ? 
No,  we  are  to  marvel  that  matters  are  not  worse,  that  people  do  not 
act  at  such  places  as  if  the  demons  of  hell  were  driving  them  to  sin 
and  death.  That  even  the  gold  fields  of  Australia,  California  and 
Nevada  show  instances>  numerous  instances  of  public  and  private 
virtue  is  apt  to  impress  us  with  a  high  opinion  of  man's  spiritual 
condition. 

Now  the  sand  is  all  removed,  and  a  board,  that  has  perhaps  been 
there  for  many,  many  years,  comes  to  light.  But  it  isn't  a  board, 
for,  though  the  edges  lie  free  from  the  ground,  the  effort  to  turn  it 
up  with  the  shovel  proves  useless. 

It  is  a  box  beyond  all  doubt,  and  in  the  excitement  of  the  dis 
covery  Charles  applies  most  childish  means  to  raise  it  from  the 
ground.  Kneeling  down  he  pulls,  and  tugs,  and  lifts  and  pushes 
until  the  perspiration  rolls  from  his  forehead  to  the  ground  and  a 
merry  laugh  on  the  part  of  Dolores  calls  him  to  his  senses. 

"  Confound  the  box,"  he  cried,  joining  in  her  mirth,  and 
springing  to  his  feet.  ' '  It  sticks  in  there  as  tight  as  if  a  dozen 
imps  were  holding  it.  I  must  enlarge  the  hole  and  loosen  the  sides 
before  I  can  at  all  expect  to  lift  it  from  the  ground." 

To  judge  from  the  cover  the  box  seemed  to  be  about  two  feet 


228  DOLORES 

square,  the  third  dimension,  as  sticking  in  the  ground,  remaining 
uncertain.  It  was,  therefore,  no  small  labor  to  dig  out  a  cavity 
large  enough  to  allow  room  on  all  sides  of  the  box,  and  a  full  hour 
elapsed  before  Charles  accomplished  the  task.  The  box  was  about 
a  foot  deep,  and  although  he  succeeded  in  getting  his  fingers  under 
the  bottom  and  lifted  with  all  his  might,  he  did  not  succeed  in  rais 
ing  it  more  than  an  inch  or  two. 

This  weight  was  a  favorable  indication. 

"  Dol,"  Charles  said,  seriously,  "  that  chest  contains  either  lead 
or  gold  ;  nothing  else  would  make  it  so  heavy.  If  I  should  break 
it  open  and  find  it  to  contain  the  former  metal,  could  you  bear  the 
disappointment  ?  ' ' 

"  Yes,  Charlie,  I  think  I  could,  though  I  must  confess  that  it 
woud  be  a  disappointment.  I  never  thought  that  this  yellow  trash 
should  so  engross  our  minds." 

"Nor  I,  Dol,  to  tell  the  truth.  If  any  man  should  now  order 
me. from  this  place,  I  would  draw  my  revolver  to  defend  it.  Still 
we  must  prepare  ourselves  to  see  our  golden  expectations  dissolve 
into  vapor.  I  could  never  pardon  myself  for  having  first  aroused 
and  then  disappointed  your  expectations,  unless  I  knew  that  in  such 
a  case  your  peace  of  mind  would  suffer  no  lasting  detriment." 

"Oh  !  Charlie,  it  is  not  so  bad  as  that.  Just  work  away,  I 
think  I  can  bear  the  consequences  like  a  stoic,  no  matter  how  the 
thing  may  turn  out." 

"  Well,  then,  here  is  the  pick,  which  will  soon  settle  the  ques 
tion.  A  couple  of  blows  well  applied  and  the  cover  will  spring. 
Hold  your  breath,  Dol." 

Down  the  pick  went  between  the  cover  and  sideboard,  but  the 
box  was  stronger  than  Charles  had  fancied.  Strong  hinges  held  it 
on  one  side  and  a  massive  padlock  on  the  other,  and  in  spite  of 
lifting  and  tugging  the  first  blow  made  little  impression.  The  sec 
ond  one,  dealt  with  even  greater  force,  somewhat  widened  the  crack 
produced  by  its  predecessor,  but  it  wasn't  until  a  full  dozen  had 
been  spent  upon  the  cover  that  it  finally  yielded  with  a  crash,  and, 
in  consequence  of  a  jerk  with  the  piek,  flew  back.  Eagerly  four 
eyes  sent  their  glances  into  the  box,  but  another  obstacle  in  the 
shape  of  a  piece  of  oilcloth  impeded  the  view.  This  cover  being  re 
moved  by  the  trembling  hands  of  Charles,  some  parchments  made 


DOLORES.  229 

their  appearance,  and  between  them  and  beside  them  were  round 
coins  of  large  size  and   yellow  color,  on  which   the  feeble  light  of 
the  cave  awoke  a  faint  reflection. 
"The  testament!" 
"The  gold!" 

After  these  simultaneous  cries  there  was  deep  silence.  It  was 
true  ;  their  boldest  expectations  had  been  realized — yes,  more  than 
realized,  for  if  that  whole  box  was  filled  that  way  their  fancy  was 
slow  in  furnishing  figures  large  enough  to  meet  the  truth.  There 
was  gold  in  masses,  in  larger  heaps  than  these  young  people  had 
ever  seen  or  dreamed  of.  There  was  also  the  testament  of  the 
former  owner,  by  virtue  of  which  they  were,  without  doubt,  in 
stalled  as  the  proper  heirs.  Charles  took  it  up  as  if  in  a  dream,  and, 
glancing  over  the  contents,  convinced  himself  of  the  correctness  of 
his  supposition. 

"  Well,  Dol,  what  now  ?"  he  suddenly  addressed  the  girl,  turn 
ing  abruptly  to  her.  "  Are  you  satisfied  with  my  sagacity  ?  AYas 
I  correct  in  my  conjectures  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Charlie,  you  were  right,  but  don't  speak  to  me  just  now. 
I  cannot  think,  I  can  only  gaze.  Gold  !  gold  !  gold  !  Oh!  so  much 
gold."  - 

He  looked  alarmed  and  gently  shook  her  arm. 
"  Child,  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?     You  are  drunk." 
"Yes,  Charlie,  I  am  drunk,  intoxicated  with  this  sight.     But  I 
am  getting  over  it  now,  and  if  you  will  bear  with  me  for  one  mo 
ment  I'll  be  myself  again.     So,  now  my  head  feels  clearer." 

It  would  be  vain  to  try  to  render  the  rambling  conversation  now 
ensuing.  Little  children  could  not  have  been  wilder  after  school- 
hours  than  our  friends  hovering  over  their  discovered  treasure. 
Now  they  laughed,  and  the  next  moment  they  sobered  down  to 
earnestness  even  tinged  with  sadness  ;  now  they  let  the  coin  slip 
through  their  fingers,  listening  to  the  merry  tinkle  with  which  they 
struck  against  their  comrades  underneath,  and  anon  they  rose  to 
their  feet,  stepping  back  and  looking  at  the  treasure  with  a  look  of 
awe.  But  sitting  or  standing,  laughing  or  chatting,  they  built  all 
the  while  air  castles  of  the  most  fantastic  nature,  and  would,  no 
doubt,  have  continued  this  sport  if  the  deepening  shades  of  the  cave 


230  DOLORES. 

had  not  at  last  reminded  them  of  the  approach  of  night  and  the  ne 
cessity  of  fixing  upon  a  plan. 

"  We  must  bury  the  gold  again  for  the  present,"  Charles  sug 
gested,  "  and  come  for  it  some  other  time." 

"  But  it  may  be  found  and  stolen." 

Care  and  trouble,  the  inseparable  companions  of  gold,  had 
already  made  their  appearance. 

11  That  is  true,"  Charles  replied,  "  but  it  can't  be  helped.  AVe 
could  take  but  little  with  us,  and  that  little  would  be  apt  to  betray 
us.  But  I  shall  take  the  will  and  place  it  in  the  safe  of  the  office. 
There  it  will  be  secure,  you  know,  and  we  shall  need  it  to  establish 
our  claims  to  all  this  gold." 

"  It  will  not  all  be  ours,  Charles.  Part  of  it  belongs  to  uncle 
Jacob  and  part  to  father." 

"  No,  Dol,  I  hardly  think  that  the  testament  gives  anything  to 
Mr.  Fox.  I  should  not  wonder  if  it  deprived  him  even  of  a  large 
portion  of  the  wealth  he  now  enjoys. " 

"  Do  you  think  so,  Charlie  ?  If  that  is  the  case  I  shall  take  no 
more  pleasure  in  the  discovery  of  all  this  gold.  I  do  not  want  to 
participate  in  any  transaction  calculated  to  deprive  my  dear  father 
of  his  fortune." 

"  Nor  I  either,  Dol.     I  could  not  think  of  such  a  course." 

"Are  you  in  earnest,  Charlie?"  she  asked  with  brightening 
eyes. 

"  In  dead  earnest,  child  ;  how  can  you  doubt  my  word  ?" 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it,  only  the  fear  of  danger  to  father's  prosper 
ity  confused  my  head.  I  thank  you,  Charlie,  from  the  bottom  of 
my  heart." 

"There  is  no  occasion  for  that,  Dolores.  But  to  obtain  our 
wishes  we  must  secrete  the  document  for  a  while.  If  it  was  put  in 
court  I  should  be  powerless  to  protect  the  interests  of  Mr.  Fox,  but 
by  keeping  it  back  and  merely  hinting  at  our  discovery  we  may  ob 
tain  better  terms  from  uncle  Jacob." 

"  Manage  it  just  as  you  think  best,  only  Mr.  Fox  must  not  suf 
fer  in  consequence  of  any  good  luck  of  mine." 

"  He  shall  not,  Dol,  if  I  can  help  it,  but  I  may  as  well  tell  you 
that  Mr.  Fox  is  at  present  in  great  pecuniary  embarrassment.  He 


DOLORES.  231 

may  even  become  a  bankrupt  if  he  does  not  soon  succeed  in  raising 
large  sums  of  money." 

"  Charlie,  you  alarm  me." 

"  Now,  would  you  have  any  objection  if,  in  case  of  necessity,  I 
take  a  portion  of  this  money  to  set  him  right  again  ?  " 

"  Not  the  least,  Charlie  ;  how  can  you  ask  ?  You  know  that  I 
would  gladly  forfeit  my  whole  share  to  assist  him." 

"  I  thought  so,  but  this  is  business,  and  in  business  it  is  always 
best  to  have  a  clear  understanding.  But  now  I  must  set  to  work  to 
bury  the  gold.  It  would  not  do  to  leave  any  trace  of  my  digging." 

After  fastening  the  cover  on  the  box  Charles  threw  the  sand 
back  into  the  hole,  and  this  task  being  much  easier  than  the  work 
of  excavating  he  finished  it  in  less  than  half  an  hour.  Every  trace 
of  the  operation  was  then  carefully  obliterated  and  the  bones  were 
replaced  in  their  previous  position.  The  sun  had  already  sunk  be 
low  the  horizon  when  the  pair  finally  stepped  into  the  boat,  and 
shoving  it  through  the  entrance  steered  through  the  intricate  pas 
sages  of  the  channel.  On  reaching  the  open  sea  the  mast  was 
hoisted  and  a  favorable  breeze  drove  the  boat  rapidly  through  the 
waves  towards  the  little  harbor.  Many  glances  the  two  cast  back  at 
the  place  that  held  their  precious  secret,  and  even  after  reaching 
the  land  and  walking  towards  the  village  their  eyes  wandered  in 
the  direction  of  the  cemetery,  although  the  last  vestige  of  it  had 
long  ago  disappeared  from  sight. 

Supper  was  over  when  they  reached  the  cottage,  but  Mrs.  Fuchs 
had  not  forgotten  them.  Placing  the  reserved  food  upon  the  table 
and  pouring  out  a  cup  of  freshly  prepared  tea,  she  summoned  the 
two  to  sit  down  and  make  up  for  lost  time. 

Neither  Charles  nor  Dolores  were  in  the  least  hungry,  but  they 
had  to  force  themselves  to  take  a  few  bites  in  order  to  avoid  ques 
tions,  which  they  could  not  have  answered  without  considerable  em 
barrassment.  They  had  resolved  to  keep  their  discovery  secret  un 
til  they  were  capable  ot  calm  reflection,  and  Dolores  had  left  it  to 
Charlie's  judgment  to  decide  when  this  period  should  arrive.  Mrs. 
Fuchs  kept  them  company,  but  while  their  lips  were  talking  one 
thing  their  thoughts  wandered  off  to  another. 

The  hostess  noticed  it  ;  she  told  them  that  they  were  rather  stu 
pid,  but  being  kind  enough  to  attribute  their  absence  of  mind  to 


232  DOLORES. 

the  fatigue  of  their  excursion,  she  advised  both  the  young  people 
to  retire  to  bed  at  an  early  hour. 

"  I  have  arranged  with  Lucy  to  relieve  you  altogether  for  the 
coming  night,  Dol,"  she  said.  "  After  this  trip  you  will  enjoy  a 
good  sleep,  and  you  shall  have  it.  Don't  contradict  me,  it  is  all 
cut  and  dried,  and  no  use  to  try  a  change." 

''But  Mrs.  Fox— " 

"Is  so  well  this  evening  that  she  expects  to  sleep  the  whole 
night.  You  may  see  her  for  a  minute,  but  after  that,  to  bed,  Miss 
Dolores,  and  that  without  delay." 

.  Dolores  was  only  too  well  inclined  to  accept  Mrs.  Fuchs'  kind 
ness.  Her  late  discovery  had  in  a  measure  disqualified  her  for  a 
nurse,  and  she  was  greatly  delighted  at  the  thought  of  lying  on  her 
bed  and  being  at  liberty  to  let  her  thoughts  wander  over  the  adven 
tures  of  the  afternoon.  Yet  she  did  not  enjoy  that  pleasure  very 
long,  for  she  had  hardly  stretched  her  weary  limbs  on  her  mattress 
when  the  fatigue  of  the  body  overcame  the  excitement  of  the  soul 
and  soon  sank  her  into  a  deep  slumber,  during  which  her  fancies 
assumed  the  garb  of  dreams,  treating  on  the  same  subject,  but  ex 
aggerating  a  thousand  times  the  circumstances  of  reality. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

A    DRIVER   DRIVEN. 

Charles,  being  less  fatigued,  had  resisted  the  flattering  caress  of 
sleep  longer  than  Dolores.  He  thought  on  the  discovery  until  hi& 
head  ached,  but  in  spite  of  his  musings  he  saw  no  way  of  securing 
the  treasure  without  the  assistance  of  some  confidential  friend, 
Henry  would  not  answer,  much  less  uncle  Jacob  with  his  greedy 
avarice.  His  father  was  too  timid  and  indecisive  in  his  measures, 
but  still  he  was  the  only  one  that  could  be  thought  of.  So  next 
morning,  when  they  reached  the  factory,  Charles  requested  a  pri 
vate  interview  with  his  father  at  the  office,  and  gave  him  as  short 
and  clear  an  account  of  the  discovery  as  possible.  Mr.  Fuchs  lis 
tened  with  every  sign  of  astonishment,  and,  after  Charles  hacl  fin 
ished,  replied  : 


DOLORES.  233 

"  My  son,  if  I  did  not  know  that  you  are  a  steady,  sober  lad  and 
would  not  entertain  the  thought  of  making  fun  of  your  father,  I 
should  not  credit  the  story.  And  you  knew  the  secret  of  the  cave 
for  two  years  ?  '' 

"  Yes,  father,  and  that  was  the  reason  of  my  silence  in  regard 
to  Mr.  Wood's  transactions.  I  burned  to  speak,  as  you  may  well 
imagine,  but  I  could  not  think  of  violating  my  oath." 

"  Of  course  not,  Charlie,  of  course  not.  I  approve  of  your  con 
duct,  yes,  I  admire  it,  and  that  of  little  Dol  even  more.  Who 
would  have  thought  of  giving  her  credit  for  so  much  character  ?  " 

' '  I,  father ;  indeed  I  would  have  trusted  her  in  far  greater 
temptations.  But  you  forgot  the  gold." 

*•  Ah  !  yes  ;  I  can  not  as  yet  force  myself  to  look  upon  your 
story  as  a  reality.  You  have  the  testament  in  your  possession,  you 
say  ? " 

"Yes,  father,  he  replied,  untying  a  portfolio,  which  he  had 
taken  from  the  house  and  never  for  a  moment  released  from  his 
grasp.  The  parchment  he  drew  out  had  grown  old  with  time,  but 
the  sand  in  which  it  had  been  buried  was  so  dry,  and  the  oilcloth 
cover  had  so  effectually  kept  out  all  destructive  influences  that  not 
a  letter  of  the  document  had  become  illegible.  Unfolding  it,  he 
asked  his  father  : 

"  Shall  I  read  it  ?  " 

"  If  you  please." 


ON  BOARD  "  THE  ROVER," 
September  20,  1760. 

Be  it  known  to  all  concerned  that  I  have  this  day  drawn  up  my 
last  will  and  testament  and  intend  to  leave  my  property  as  follows  : 

First. — The  box  in  the  cave  of  the  cemetery  on  the  coast  of  Main  e 
containing  in  doubloons  and  diamonds  the  sum  of  $250, 000.00. 

"  Is  it  possible  !"  Mr.  Fuchs  could  not  abstain  from  interrupting. 

I  leave  to  the  children  of  my  sister-in-law,  Caroline  Fuchs,  resid 
ing  at  B —  —  in  ihe  Palatinate  011  the  Rhine,  in  equal  portions. 

Second. — My  estate  at  Foxville,  in  the  Colony  of  Maine,  I  also 
leave  to  the  children  of  said  Caroline  Fuchs,  and  the  heir  or  heirs  of 
my  brother  Walter  who  now  jesides  thereon,  taking  charge  of  the 
same  for  me,  the  land  to  be  equally  divided  amongst  all  the  parties 
above  named. 

"  Poor  Mr.  Fox  !"  Charles  interrupted  himself. 

' '  That  would  deprive  him  of  a  portion  of  his  property." 

"  The  greater  portion,  father  ;  but  Dol  and  I  have  made  up  our 


234  DOLORES. 

rainds  that  he  shall  suffer  no  detriment  whatever.  Were  we  right, 
father?" 

"  Of  course,  my  boy  ;  but  I  fear  uncle  Jacob  would  think  differ 
ently." 

4 '  So  do  I.  For  that  reason  we  must  keep  quiet  about  the  will 
unless  we  can  induce  him  to  sign  a  written  agreement  that  suits  our 
purpose. ' ' 

"But  will  he  do  that?" 

"I  think  he  will;  leave  that  to  me,  father,  I  know  how  to 
manage  him." 

"Very  well,  Charlie  ;  but  go  on  with  the  will." 

"  Well,  that  is  nearly  all.  The  signature  is  testified  to  by  two 
witnesses,  both  of  whom  seem  to  have  been  officers  of  the  *  Rover.' " 

"The  paper  is  evidently  unfinished,  or  at  least  the  formality  of 
recording  is  lacking.  We  know  from  Eberhardt's  letter  that  it  was 
his  intention  to  have  it  recorded,  but  a  sudden  death  seems  to  have 
prevented  the  execution  of  the  purpose." 

"You  may  be  right,  Charlie  ;  but  what  do  you  propose  doing 
with  the  money  ?  " 

"That  is  the  difficulty.  By  means  of  levers  we  two  might  suc 
ceed  in  shipping  the  box  and  conveying  it  safely  to  the  cottage,  or 
better  to  the  large  safe  here  in  the  office  ;  but  how  shall  we  both 
get  off  at  the  same  time  without  creating  suspicion?" 

' '  We  might  start  before  day-break  and  in  that  way  manage  to 
get  back  jat  an  early  hour." 

"  But  not  in  time  to  start  the  factory." 

"That  would  be  hardly  necessary  ;  I  might  instruct  the  fore 
man  the  night  before  and  he  could  get  along  well  enough  for  a 
couple  of  hours." 

"  But  the  horse  and  wagon,  father?" 

"  On  returning  to  the  bay  I  could  stay  in  the  boat  and  you  go 
for  the  wagon." 

•"But  if  Henry  or  uncle  Jacob  should  ask  an  explanation?" 

"  We  must  send  them  off  on  some  errand  or  other." 

"They  will  hardly  go.  I  took  that  liberty  with  uncle  yester 
day,  sending  him  to  lawyer  Sharp  at  Hilltown.  He  is  not  in  the 
best  of  humor  this  morning  in  consequence  of  the  useless  walk." 

Mr.  Fuchs  laughed. 


DOLOKES.  235 

"  I  do  not  wonder  ;  it  is  no  fun  to  run  ten  miles  and  back  for 
nothing.  "We  must  hit  upon  another  expedient,  then.  How  would 
it  do  to  give  him  plenty  of  Deidesheimer  Trammer  this  evening  ?" 

' '  That  would  indeed  chain  him  to  his  bed  till  a  late  hour  ;  but 
what  of  Henry  ?" 

Mr.  Fuchs  sighed. 

"  Alas  !  Charlie,  your  brother  will  not  neglect  a  chance  of  im 
bibing  freely.  If  we  don't  curt  his  appetite  he  will  be  even  more 
helpless  to-morrow  morning  than  my  brother." 

Charles  shook  his  head. 

"  I  hate  to  base  my  calculations  on  my  brother's  degradation. 
Goodness  knows  he  is  low  enough  without  it.  However,  we  must 
secure  the  box  to-morrow  and  one  drunken  spell  more  or  less  will 
eventually  matter  little.  So  the  plan  is  fixed ;  thanks  to  your 
sagacity,  father.  It  seems  to  me  we  had  changed  roles  for  once. 
Generally  you  counsel  caution  and  have  to  check  my  ardor  ;  this 
time  the  case  lies  just  reversed.  Can  you  account  for  that  ? 

"No,  Charlie,  unless  it  is  that  I  am  getting  restless  and  impa 
tient  to  see  so  big  a  pile  of  gold." 

"May  be  that  is  the  cause  ;  but  I  know  this,  that  if  you  had 
once  seen  the  gold,  like  me,  you  would  be  shy  and  timid  also.  I 
cannot  rid  myself  of  the  thought  that  by  some  chance  intruder  the 
secret  may  leak  out." 

"Well,  that  risk  is  as  great  one  day  as  another,  or  rather  every 
day  increases  it.  The  sooner  we  remove  the  gold  the  better." 

"  You  are  right  again,  father  ;  so  have  your  way  about  it.  You 
had  better  make  the  necessary  arrangements  all  at  once.  Invent 
any  story  for  the  foreman  that  seems  credible." 

Mr.  Fuchs  was  on  the  point  of  leaving  the  office,  when  suddenly 
he  returned,  saying  : 

' '  Charlie,  you  spoke  of  a  cargo  of  steel  in  the  cave  ;  we  have 
not  fixed  on  any  course  regarding  that." 

"  You  are  right,"  Charles  lively  responded  ;  "  that,  too,  requires 
immediate  attention." 

"And  what  would  you  propose?" 

"  Oh !  that  is  easily  managed.  Wood,  in  his  contraband  trade, 
must  have  had  accomplices  to  transport  the  steel.  Has  any  one 
left  the  factory  lately  besides  George?" 


236  DOLOKES. 

"Not  to  my  knowledge,  Charlie." 

"Then  we  have  our  man.  I  know  John,  the  driver,  is  one  of 
them  and  if  we  attack  him  on  a  sudden  and  threaten  him  with  dire 
punishment  he  will  not  only  betray  the  other  parties  but  volunteer 
to  haul  the  cargo  as  an  offset  to  his  offense." 

"So  you  will  shift  the  matter  entirely  off  your  hands?  The 
plan  is  excellent.  .  When  do  you  mean  to  start  them  ?" 

"  This  evening,  if  possible  ;  else  the  revenue  officers  might  spoil 
the  job  for  us." 

"  But  can  they  remove  the  boxes  in  one  night?  You  know  to 
morrow  they  would  be  in  our  way." 

"  I  hope  they  can  and,  if  not,  they  may  divide  the  job  into  two 
night's  labor." 

"Exactly.     You  seem  to  have  regained  your  nerve,  Charlie- 
Shall  I  send  you  the  driver  when  I  inform  the  foreman  ?" 
"If  you  please,  sir." 

A  few  minutes  afterwards  John  the  driver  made  his  appearance. 
This  summons  was  somewhat  suspicious  and  Charles  saw  from  the 
fellow's  mien  that  he  had  a  guilty  conscience. 

"  Sit  down,  John,"  Charles  addressed  him.     "I  want  to  speak 
a  word  or  two  to  you.     You  know  the  superintendent  has  cut  sticks 
and  left  us  in  a  pretty  fix." 
The  driver  started. 

"  Well,  yes,  I  know,  Charlie  ;  but  then  you  know — I  don't  see 
exactly — T  don't  see  what  I  have  to  do  with  that." 

"Oh!  I  thought  you  might  give  us  some  information,  John. 
You  know  you  were  always  on  very  good  terms  with  Mr.  Wood.'^ 
"I!"  the  driver  stammered  in  great  consternation  ;  "indeed  I 
don't  know — " 

By  this  time  Charles  was  sure  of  the  man's  complicity.  So, 
changing  his  easy  mode  of  speaking  into  a  rapid,  energetic  one,  he 
said  suddenly  : 

'•  But  I  know  ;  Wood  used  to  smuggle  steel  from  the  cemetery 
and  you  assisted  him." 

A  flash  from  the  blue  sky  could  not  have  .struck  the  driver 
more  unexpectedly  and  forcibly  than  this  sudden  declaration.  He 
stared  at  Charles  with  his  eyes  and  mouth  open,  the  helpless  victim 
of  unbounded  consternation.  At  last  he  made  an  effort  to  collect 


DOLORES.  237 

himself,  but  before  he  had  uttered  a  single  word,  Charles  continued: 

"I  have  witnesses  to  prove  what  I  say.  I  need  but  give  a  hint 
to  the  revenue  officers  and  you  will  be  delivered  to  the  severity  of 
the  law.  Moreover,  your  situation  is  in  jeopardy  ;  one  word  from 
my  lips  and  you  leave  this  factory  an  unemployed  man." 

John  could  not  constrain  himself  any  longer.  Springing  to  his 
feet  and  lifting  his  hands  in  an  imploring  manner,  he  cried  : 

"  Oh  !  Charlie,  good  Mr.  Charlie,  don't  ruin  a  poor  fellow  that 
merely  did  what  he  was  bid  to  do.  It  went  against  the  grain  to 
assist  in  cheating  Mr.  Fox,  but  what  could  I  do  ?  In  these  hard 
times  a  poor  fellow  is  glad  to  earn  an  honest  penny  outside  of  his 
work.  Please,  sir,  don't  ruin  me  ;  I'll  do  anything  in  the  world  for 
you,  only  don't,  don't  inform  on  me." 

Charles  looked  at  him  with  a  steady  eye.  At  length  when  he 
thought  the  fellow's  fear  had  been  ^frought  to  a  high  enough  pitch, 
he  broke  the  silence  by  saying  : 

"  Very  well,  John.     You  are  a  married  man   and  I  pity  your 
wife  and  children.     I  will  keep  silent  on  one  condition." 

"  Wliat  is  it,  Charlie,  what  is  it?"  John  inquired  eagerly.  "I'll 
do  anything  in  my  power  to  make  amends." 

"  There  is  a  cargo  of  steel  in  the  cave  at  present,"  Charles  re 
sumed. 

"  Indeed  is  there  ?     I  didn't  know  that." 

' '  It  has  been  paid  for  with  Mr.  Fox's  money  and  he  cannot  af 
ford  to  lose  it.  He  despises  the  nefarious  practice  of  smuggling, 
but  as  Wood  has  smuggled  this  cargo  so  far  Mr.  Fox  cannot  now 
inform  the  revenue  officers  without  losing  both  his  money  and  the 
goods.  Do  you  understand  me  ?" 

"  Exactly,  sir,  exactly." 

"  Well,  then,  I'll  pardon  your  assistance  at  previous  offenses  if 
you  can  manage  to  haul  the  eargo  from  the  cave  to  the  factory  this 
very  night." 

"  Is  it  a  large  cargo  ?  ' ' 

"Tolerably  large." 

"  And  two  nights  would  be  too  late  for  you  ?  " 

"  I  should  prefer  to  have  the  job  done  all  at  once.  To  show 
you  that  I  mean  well,  if  the  boxes  are  in  our  yard  to-morrow  morn 
ing  at  four  o'clock  I  shall  not  only  say  a  good  word  in  your  favor  to 


238  DOLORES. 

Mr.  Fox,  but  also  give  you  aud  your  comrades  a  hundred  dollar 
note  as  a  token  of  my  satisfaction." 

John's  countenance  brightened.  Making  a  few  steps  towards 
Charles  and  extending  his  hand  to  him,  he  said  : 

"  Charlie,  I  am  your  man.  The  deuce  take  me  if  you  ain't  the 
honestest  man  I  ever  did  see.  I  shall  fetch  you  the  boxes  this  night 
and  no  mistake,  and  what's  more,  if  John  Riley  ever  forgets  your 
kindness  may  ten  thousand  bombshells  blast  him  all  to  pieces." 

"  Very  well,  John,"  Charles  replied,  taking  the  proffered  hand, 
"  I  count  on  you.  But  you  had  better  go  now,  or  people  might 
wonder  what  we  two  have  to  confer  together  about  all  this  while.'* 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

• 

SPECULATIONS. 

About  nine  o'clock  a  wagon  with  one  horse  drove  up  to  the  of 
fice  door.  There  were  two  men  in  it,  using  a  rough,  strong  box  for 
a  seat.  We  hardly  need  tell  the  reader  that  the  occupants  were  the 
Fuchs,  father  and  son,  and  that  they  were  just  returning  from  a 
successful  expedition.  He  knows  the  box  also,  and  does  not  won 
der  in  the  least  when  we  state  that  rollers  and  levers  had  to  be  used 
before  the  chest  was  safely  deposited  on  the  floor  of  the  office.  Two 
laborers,  however,  who  had  been  called  to  lend  a  hand,  had  won 
dered  considerably,  and  only  became  satisfied  when  they  were  in 
formed  that  steel  bars  of  a  fine  quality  formed  the  contents. 

"  So,"  said  Charlie  with  a  contented  mien,  locking  the  door  after 
the^nen  had  left,  and  then,  dropping  into  a  chair,  wiped  the  per 
spiration  from  his  brow.  ' '  So  far,  so  good.  We  have  reason  to  be 
satisfied  with  our  success.  Did  you  notice  the  boxes  of  steel  in  the 
shed?" 

"  I  did,  my  son,  but  then  we  were  sure  to  find  them  '.there,  for 
you  recollect  the  cave  was  empty." 

"  To  be  sure,  but  still  it  gratifies  me  considerably  to  know  them 
safe.  We  may  now  at  our  leisure  transfer  the  contents  of  the  chest 
to  the  large  safe.  This  would  not  hold  half  of  them." 


DOLORES.  239- 

' '  You  promised  John  and  his  men  a  hundred  dollars." 

"Exactly,  but  it  would  not  do  to  give  him  the  money  in  the 
presence  of  others.  After  we  are  through  here  you  may  please  give 
him  a  hint  to  call  on  me  after  working  hours." 

"  I  will,  Charlie,  but  here  is  the  hatchet  and  a  chisel  to  open 
the  box." 

"  Just  one  minute  more,  father.  Let  me  lower  the  curtain  to 
keep  inquisitive  eyes  from  prying  into  affairs  that  do  not  concern 
them." 

The  box  was  then  opened  and  Mr.  Fuchs,  who  now  saw  its  con 
tents  for  the  first  time,  experienced  nearly  the  same  sensations  of 
awe  and  pleasure  which  his  son  had  felt  two  days  ago.  Age  is  said 
to  make  us  wiser  and  cooler,  but  few  men  get  wise  and  cool  enough 
to  free  themselves  from  the  charm  of  gold. 

The  two  had  no  time  to  count  the  money,  but  they  had  on  the 
night  before  procured  a  dozen  small  but  strong  bags  from  Mrs. 
Fuchs  and  now  put  the  coins  into  them  for  better  handling.  At 
the  bottom  of  the  chest  they  found  a  little  box  of  rosewood  with 
steel  corners  and  beautiful  inland  work  of  gold  and  enamel.  It  had 
a  lock  and  a  key  sticking  in  it.  On  turning  the  key  and  lifting  the 
cover,  which  worked  on  hinges,  a  sight  truly  grand  and  startling 
presented  itself  to  them.  Large  quantities  of  precious  stones  filled 
the  box  to  the  brim,  some  cut  and  reflecting  the  light  a  hundred 
fold,  others  with  rough  covers,  such  as  are  found  in  the  mines  of 
Brazil  and  India. 

"  These  are  diamonds,"  Charles  cried  in  excited  but  yet  subdued 
tones.  "  These  stones  alone  must  be  worth  that  sum  in  the  hands 
of  a  man  who  understands  selling  them  to  advantage." 

' '  You  may  be  right  for  all  1  know  ;  I  have  very  little  know 
ledge  of  such  matters.  So,  here  is  the  last  bag  ;  just  let  me  put 
that  in  the  safe." 

"No,  stop  a  moment,  father.  I  want  to  count  off  $25,000  to 
meet  Mr.  Fox's  outstanding  debts." 

"  What  ?     You  would  pay  them  with  this  money  ?  " 

"  Yes,  father.  Dolores  has  given  her  consent ;  I  hope  you  have 
no  objections  ?  " 

"  No,  my  boy,  none  whatever  ;  only  be  careful  in  your  actions. 


240  DOLORES. 

This  money  belongs  by  right  to  the  descendants  of  Caroline  Fuchs, 
but  the  courts  might  raise  trouble  in  the  matter,  and — " 

"  I  think  it  will  be  best  not  to  trouble  the  courts  at  all.  If  we 
can  get  the  heirs  to  make  an  amiable  settlement  among  themselves 
no  outside  person  need  know  anything  about  this  matter. " 

"But,  Charlie,  there  is  danger  in  that.  It  is  hardly  possible  to 
keep  such  things  a  secret,  and  if  they  do  leak  out  you  subject 
yourself  to  bad  repute,  and,  may  be,  persecutions  by  law." 

"  Well,  let  us  leave  that  to  more  mature  reflection  ;  now  I  want 
to  count  this  money. ' ' 

Mr.  Fuchs  yielded  the  point,  as  he  was  wont  to  do,  and  the  sum 
of  $25,000  was  counted  and  laid  aside. 

The  rest  of  the  day  was  passed  in  the  common  routine  of  busi 
ness,  and  in  the  evening,  when  the  driver  made  his  appearance  in 
the  office,  Charles  handed  him  the  stipulated  reward  in  gold. 

The  fellow's  eyes  sparkled. 

"  I  thank  you  very  much,  sir.     Did  vou  examine  the  boxes  ?  " 

11 1  did,  John,  and  found  them  all  right.  You  have  come  up  to 
your  promise  like  a  man." 

"  I  thank  you  for  those  words,  sir.  I'll  not  forget  your  kind 
ness,  and  if  ever  you  want  a  person  to  do  a  job  for  you,  hard  or  not 
hard,  pay  or  no  pay,  you  know  where  to  find  him." 

"  Yes,  John,  I'll  think  of  that.  And  now,  my  friend,  no  more 
irregularities  ;  you  understand  me  ?  " 

"  I  do,  sir,  and  you  may  clip  my  ears  if  ever  you  find  me  on  the 
wrong  track  again." 

"  It  is  so  easy  to  gain  a  man,"  Charles  said  to  himself  as  he  was 
walking  home.  "  I  wonder  why  there  were  ever  kings  who  were 
hated  by  their  people." 

We  could  have  solved  the  mystery  for  him.  Charles  overlooked 
this  fellow's  failings  and  rewarded  his  honesty.  The  kings,  how 
ever,  whom  history  has  marked  as  tyrants,  did  just  the  reverse. 
They  overlooked  the  virtues  of  their  people  and  rewarded  their  in 
iquities.  Thus  they  gained  the  approval  of  the  wicked,  the  hatred 
of  the  good  and  the  curse  of  posterity. 

At  the  cottage  he  found  smiling  faces  excepting  uncle  Jacob's 
and  Henry's,  which  bore  shadows.  Uncle  Jacob  was  out  of  humor 
because  so  far  he  had  made  no  headway  at  all  in  the  great  enter- 


DOLORES.  241 

prise  of  his  life.  Charles'  confidential  communication  regarding 
the  whereabouts  of  the  testament  had  cheered  him  for  a  while,  but 
failing  to  receive  any  satisfactory  details  from  his  nephew,  he  be 
gan  to  suspect  that  the  young  man  had  merely  talked  at  random, 
with  no  other  object  in  view  than  that  of  securing  his  uncle's  secrecy 
concerning  Mrs.  Fox's  night  adventure.  He  felt  so  vexed  at  this 
thought  that  he  would  at  once  have  broken  his  pledge  if  the  young 
man's  impressive  warning  had  not  stood  vividly  before  his  mind  and 
suggested  the  propriety  of  not  risking  his  enmity.  Besides,  the 
knowledge  of  the  real  facts  of  the  case  might  become  too  valuable 
to  lightly  throw  away.  If  the  testament  could  not  be  found  uncle 
Jacob  might  after  a  while  succeed  in  getting  Mr.  Fox  to  cash  that 
knowledge  to  the  amount  of  a  few  thousands,  and  with  that  money 
he  might  return  to  Germany,  for,  rich  or  poor,  he  would  never 
think  of  spending  the  remainder  of  his  life  in  as  disagreeable  a 
country  as  the  United  States  had  proven  themselves  thus  far  to  be. 

Uncle  Jacob's  thoughts  were  running  in  that  strain  when  Charles 
entered  the  parlor.  Jacob  was  alone,  and  Charles  resolved  to  ben 
efit  by  the  opportunity  to  push  his  plans.  He  had  hardly  seen, 
much  less  spoken  to  his  uncle  since  that  worthy's  expedition  into 
the  country,  and  now  the  young  man  approached  him  in  a  pleasant 
manner,  which  was  captivating  to  his  uncle  in  proportion  to  its  rare 
ness. 

"  Well,  uncle,  how  do  you  do  this  evening?  I  haven't  had 
time  to  speak  to  you  this  day  or  two.  You  must  excuse  me  on  ac 
count  of  the  urgent  duties  that  now  devolve  upon  me." 

"  Certainly,  Charlie,  certainly,  my  boy.  I  know  you  must  have 
a  hard  time  of  it  now." 

"  Rather  hard,  uncle." 

"  When  do  you  expect  Mr.  Fox  back  ?  " 

<(  That's  hard  to  tell,  uncle.  Mr.  Fox  is  trying  to  raise  money 
and  that  is  a  difficult  operation  now-a-days." 

"Very  true,  Charlie,  very  true.  I  am  a  living  example  of  that 
truth.  I  have  been  trying  to  raise  money  these  twenty  years  and 
have  riot  succeeded  over  well." 

"Better  luck  for  the  future  then,  uncle.  You  remember  the 
testament." 

16 


242  DOLORES. 

"  Curse  the  testament,"  Jacob  said  with  a  sudden  outburst  of 
passion.  But  he  checked  himself,  saying  : 

''Charles,  you  held  out  some  hope  to  me  the  other  day  ;  tell 
me  the  truth  now,  my  boy  ;  you  merely  wanted  to  lead  your  uncle 
somewhat  by  the  nose,  didn't  you  ?" 

"  Why,  uncle,  what  do  you  mean  ?  How  would  I  dare  to  show 
disrespect  to  my  father's  brother  ?" 

"  Thank  you,  Charlie,  thank  you  very  much.  But  to  return  to 
the  subject.  There  was  some  foundation  to  the  hints  you  dropped." 

"  Of  course,  uncle,  or  I  shouldn't  have  dropped  them.  I  repeat 
that  I  have  a  pretty  clear  idea  where  the  testament  may  be  found." 

Charles  smiled  at  the  thought  of  uncle  Jacob's  total  ignorance 
of  the  truth  of  the  assertion. 

* '  You  have,  have  you  my  lad  ?  Now  come,  don't  play  blind 
man's  bluff  with  your  old  uncle,  but  speak  out  plainly  that  a  fellow 
can  understand  you." 

These  words  were  uttered  with  a  kind  of  confidential  secrecy, 
the  speaker  moving  up  to  Charles  and  laying  his  hand  persuasively 
upon  his  knee.  Charles  laughed. 

"  You  are  trying  to  catch  me  with  soft  solder,  uncle  Jacob,"  he 
said,  "just  as  mother  does  the  flies  with  honey.  But  I  ain't  so 
easily  caught  as  they,  my  dear  sir.  Do  you  think  I  mean  to  throw 
my  knowledge  away  ?  This  is  a  land  of  speculation,  uncle,  and 
when  a  man  possesses  a  secret  that's  worth  knowing  he  makes  the 
most  of  it  he  can." 

"Ah  !  you  want  to  skin  your  poor  uncle,  you  young  rascal,  do 
you?" 

"No,  uncle,  I  only  want  to  shave  you.  That  will  save  you  the 
trouble  going  to  the  barber." 

"  Well,  shave  away,  Charlie  ;  how  much  hair  must  I  sacrifice? 
Will  a  thousand  dollars  do  ?" 

"  Ah  !  you  are  generous,  uncle.  I  see  you  have  a  due  apprecia 
tion  of  my  secret ;  but  I  prefer  to  state  the  matter  differently. 
First  and  foremost,  will  you  have  the  kindness  to  state  in  to  how 
many  shares  the  inheritance  ought  to  be  divided,  according  to  your 
opinion  ?" 

"  In  two,  Charlie,  of  course,  in  two  ;  one  share  falling  to  your 
father,  the  other  to  me." 


DOLORES.  243 

"And  Dolores,  uncle.  It  seems  you  leave  her  entirely  in  the 
cold." 

"  Dolores  !  Ah  !  yes,  I  recollect  now,  she  is  the  representative 
of  the  Italian  branch.  It  is  hard  to  endure  the  thought  that  a  lit 
tle  girl  should  come  in  for  such  a  pile  of  money— 

"Pile  of  money?"  Charles  interrupted  him  ;  "hold  on,  uncle, 
your  fancy  is  running  away  with  you.  Who  spoke  about  a  pile  of 
money  ?" 

"Didn't  you  speak  of  one,  Charlie?  I  thought  you  did.  At 
any  rate  there  ought  to  be  one.  But  what  was  I  saying,  Charlie  ? 
You  interrupted  me." 

'•  You  spoke  of  Dolores,  uncle." 

"Exactly,  Charlie.  I  was  going  to  say  that  if  the  thing  could 
not  be  well  avoided  a  few  thousand  dollars  might  be  sacrificed  to 
satisfy  the  girl." 

"You  are  very  liberal,  uncle,  that  is  a  fact,"  Charles  replied, 
somewhat  vexed  by  the  manifestation  of  such  sordid  greediness  ; 
"  the  matter  might  be  looked  at  from  a  very  different  point  of  view. 
Dolores,  one  might  say,  represents  the  one  branch,  you  and  father 
the  other  ;  consequently  she  is  entitled  to  one-half  of  the  inheri 
tance  " 

This  was  too  much  for  uncle  Jacob.  Jumping  up,  with  every 
sign  of  consternation  in  his  face,  he  said  : 

"  Charlie,  lad  !  you  must  be  mad  to  entertain  such  thoughts. 
I  tell  you  it  would  be  downright  wickedness  to  let  so  much  money 
go  out  of  the  family." 

"  There  !  so  much  money  again.  I  told  you  not  to  be  too  hasty, 
sir.  If  you  entertain  such  miserly  principles  I  have  nothing  more 
to  say." 

After  these  words  Charles  pretended  to  be  desirous  of  ending 
the  conversation  by  leaving  the  room,  but  his  uncle,  who  saw  that 
he  had  gone  too  far,  eagerly  pressed  him  back  upon  his  chair. 

"Don't  go,  Charlie,"  he  cried,  "  don't  you  go,  my  boy.  I  was 
merely  letting  on,  you  know.  The  girl  may  indeed  be  entitled  to 
a  third,  but  an  entire  half !  just  think  of  it,  Charlie  !  an  entire 
half  !  It  is  preposterous  to  entertain  the  idea." 

"Ah!  you  are  coming  round,  I  see.  A  third;  that  sounds 
more  reasonable." 


244  DOLORES. 

"So  you  give  up  the  notion  of  the  half?"  Jacob  cried;  "I 
thought  you  would,  for  the  position  was  untenable.  Yes,  we'll 
allow  her  one- third,  we'll  allow  the  girl  one-third.  Poor  thing  ! 
she  is  fatherless  and  motherless,  you  know.  It  wouldn't  be  chris- 
tian-like  to  take  advantage  of  her,  would  it,  Charlie?" 

The  young  man  had  to  bite  his  lips  to  keep  from  bursting  into 
a  laugh.  He  thought  he  never  saw  the  smile  of  the  wolf  in  sheep's 
clothing  more  strikingly  illustrated.  But  to  laugh  might  spoil  the 
game,  so  he  remained  serious,  and  said  : 

"  Well,  have  it  your  own  way.  Let  us  assume  that  you  are  en 
titled  to  a  full  third  of  Eberhardt's  inheritance  ;  you  see  the  thing 
might  be  looked  at  in  a  very  different  light ;  bringing  in  Mr.  Fox 
and  myself  and  Henry  we  might  reduce  your  share  to  a  sixth,  but 
assuming  that  you  were  entitled  to  a  full  third  what  would  you  be 
inclined  to  take  for  your  share  ?" 

"  What !  take  for  my  share  ?" 

Jacob  was  somewhat  bewildered  in  consequence  of  the  example 
in  fractions  which  Charlie  had  given  him.  One-sixth  !  the  mere 
idea  was  enough  to  make  him  tremble. 

"  I  want  to  know  how  much  you  would  take  for  your  third?  Is 
that  not  plain  enough,  uncle?" 

"Yes,  I  understand  you  now,  Charlie.  How  much  would  I 
take  ?  That  is  hard  to  say  ;  what  do  you  think  of  a  hundred 
thousand?" 

"Coppers?" 

"  Dollars,  of  course  !"  Jacob  replied  with  a  mien  of  injured  dig 
nity. 

"  One  hundred  thousand  dollars  ?"  Charles  said,  breaking  into 
a  boisterous  laugh.  "  Uncle  Jacob,  if  you  were  not  my  father's 
brother  I  would  call  you  an  ass  !" 

Uncle  Jacob  swallowed  haid  at  that  tough  expression,  but  yet 
he  succeeded.  Charles  knew  his  man.  He  had  much  knowledge 
of  men  for  one  so  young.  He  would  have  made  a  great  statesman, 
maybe,  if  his  cradle  had  stood  in  the  halls  of  some  great  noble 
house.  As  it  was,  he  merely  had  the  chance  of  making  his  uncle 
keep  step  to  his  fife  ;  but  he  made  the  best  of  it. 

"  Well,  Charlie,  being  your  father's  brother  I  hope  you  didn't 
mean  to  apply  that  word  to  me.  The  sum  can  hardly  be  considered 


DOLORES.  245 

high  when  you  take  into  consideration  the  property  of  Mr.  Fox, 
which  also  belongs  to  Eberhardt's  bequests." 

"  I  wouldn't  be  too  sure  about  that,  uncle.  Mr.  Fox  has  been 
in  possession  so  long  that  you  would  find  it  exceedingly  difficult  to 
oust  him.  Moreover  I  shall  tell  vou  in  confidence, — mind,  uncle 
Jacob,  in  confidence — that  Mr.  Fox  is  on  the  point  of  becoming  a 
bankrupt." 

Jacob  started  up. 

"  You  don't  say  so  ;  a  bankrupt  with  that  factory  and  fine  man 
sion  and  park  ?" 

11  Yes,  sir,  with  all  that  and  in  spite  of  it,  Mr.  Fox  is  embar 
rassed.  But  you  mustn't  speak  of  it,  uncle." 

"Honor  bright!"  Jacob  cried  pompously.  4<But  that  alters 
the  case.  I  suppose  I  have  to  come  down  a  peg  or  two." 

"  I  suppose  so,  top,  uncle." 

'  *  What  do  you  think  of — of — no  indeed,  I  wont  ask  a  sum  at 
all.  You  better  make  me  an  offer  now  ;  yes,  make  me  a  handsome 
offer.  I  know  you  wouldn't  skin  your  poor  uncle  too  badly." 

"  I  told  you  I  would  merely  shave  you.  What  do  you  think  of 
twenty  thousand  ?" 

"Now,  Charlie,  come,  you  cannot  be  in  earnest ;  twenty  thous 
and  !  Bah !" 

"  "Well,  call  it  thirty  thousand,  uncle." 

"Thirty  thousand  !"  Jacob  exclaimed,  while  his  eyes  began  to 
sparkle  at  the  readiness  with  which  his  nephew  flung  away  ten 
thousand  dollars.  "  Come,  my  good  boy,  add  another  ten  and  I'm 
your  man." 

Charles  hesitated  a  moment  and  then  said  : 

"  I  shall  do  even  better,  uncle,  and  pay  you  fifty  thousand  dol 
lars  for  your  share,  but  on  one  condition." 

"Name  it,  Charlie,  name  it,  my  boy." 

"  After  having  given  me  a  written  renunciation  of  your  claim, 
which  is  to  be  certified  to  before  witnesses,  you  depart  at  once  for 
Germany,  never  to  return." 

"But  the  money,  sir,  the  money  ?  " 

"  Will  be  handed  you  in  drafts  on  a  Frankfort  house." 

Now  uncle  Jacob's  self-control  was  at  an  end.     Jumping  up  and 


246  DOLORES. 

embracing  his  nephew,  who  suffered  the  caress  with  a  bad  enough 
grace,  he  cried  : 

"  Nothing  else,  Charlie,  nothing  else.  With  all  my  heart  will 
I  go  and  never  return  to  these  confounded  United  States.  Give  me 
the  money,  sir,  and  I'll  start  to-morrow." 

"  I'll  give  you  the  money  to-morrow,  and  you  may  start  the  day 
after." 

"  Just  as  you  please,  my  darling,  just  as  you  please." 

"  Well,  come  to  my  room,  uncle.  I  shall  draw  up  the  papers  at 
once." 

a  But  you  will  not  cheat  me,  Charlie,  will  you  ?  " 

The  brow  of  the  young  man  darkened. 

"  I  will  pardon  your  suspicion  on  account  of  your  excitement. 
If  you  think  you  cannot  trust  me,  let  us  drop  the  matter  alto 
gether." 

u  No,  Charlie,  no,  my  dear  lad.  You  must  not  mind  my  ugly 
tongue,  because  it  makes  me  say  things  against  my  own  will.  I'll 
go  with  you." 

In  his  room  the  young  man  drew  up  a  paper  in  which  Jacob 
Fuchs  pledged  himself  to  renounce  all  claims  to  a  certain  inheri 
tance  coming  from  his  ancestor,  Eberhardt  Fuchs,  in  consideration 
of  the  payment  of  $50,000  in  cash. 

"  Is  that  correct,  uncle  ?  " 

"  Exactly." 

* '  Now  sign  and  then  let  us  go  to  two  neighbors  to  witness  your 
signature." 

"  But,  Charlie,  I  haven't  my  money  yet," 

"  Why,  uncle,  this  paper  only  binds  you  in  case  of  such  a  pay 
ment.  Don't  you  see  ?  " 

"  I  do,  Charlie,  give  me  the  pen  ;  so." 

He  signed  and  then  said  : 

"Now  let  us  go,  Charlie." 

The  two  left  the  house.  The  neighbors  were  willing  enough  to 
certify  to  the  signature.  When  their  names  were  on  the  paper 
Charles  and  his  uncle  returned  to  the  cottage. 

"Now  keep  mum,  uncle,"  Charles  cautioned  his  companion. 
"  Go  to  bed,  and  to-morrow  morning  you  shall  have  your  draft." 


DOLOEES.  247 

"  I  will,  Charlie,  but  I  feel  awfully  dry  ;  don't  you  think  we 
had  better  go  into  the  cellar  and  seal  our  treaty  with  a  bottle  ?  " 

"I  don't  care,  uncle,"  Charles  replied,  fearing  to  contradict  him 
in  a  point  where  he  knew  him  to  be  stubborn.  "  I  have  no  objec 
tions  to  taking  a  glass  with  you." 

So  they  went  into  the  cellar,  and  after  a  moderate  libation 
Charles  saw  his  uncle  into  his  room.  There  he  waited  until  Jacob 
was  in  bed  and  then  he  went  away  to  imitate  his  example. 

The  next  day  was  pay-day.  When  Charles  reached  the  office 
the  men  to  whom  he  had  made  the  confidential  communication  a 
few  days  ago  entered  the  room.  They  announced  themselves  as  del 
egates  from  all  the  workmen  in  the  factory,  and  then  stated  that 
they  had  been  authorized  to  inform  the  new  superintendent  that 
they  would  all  be  willing  to  wait  a  month  or  even  two  months  for 
the  money,  if  necessary. 

"  I  thank  you  in  Mr.  Fox's  name,"  Charles  replied  to  them.  "I 
thank  you  most  sincerely,  and  I  am  sure  Mr.  Fox  will  be  much 
pleased  on  his  return  to  learn  your  handsome  conduct.  However, 
it  gives  me  much  pleasure  to  announce  to  you  that  your  sacrifice 
has  become  unnecessary.  We  have  managed  to  raise  sufficient  funds 
to  pay  you  all,  and  if  you  will  call  at  this  office  after  twelve  we 
shall  be  prepared  to  satisfy  you.  We  intend  to  give  you  this  after 
noon  as  a  holiday." 

"  But,  Mr.  Charlie,"  said  the  speaker,  "  if  it  should  in  the  least 
embarrass  Mr.  Fox — 

"It  will  not,  sir,  not  in  the  least.  We  are  fully  prepared  to 
settle  all  our  debts  with  you,  and  that  without  any  trouble  at  all." 

The  men  left.  They  didn't  seem  to  like  the  turn  of  affairs  ;  they 
seemed  to  be  sorry  that  they  had  been  deprived  of  the  chance  of 
rendering  Mr.  Fox  a  service. 

In  the  afternoon  the  hands  were  all  paid  off  and  the  works  were 
stopped  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  While  this  transaction  was  still 
going  on  uncle  Jacob  showed  his  face  in  the  office.  Charles  beck 
oned  him  to  his  side. 

"  You  see  I  am  busy  now,  uncle, "  he  whispered  in  his  ear. 
"  We  shall  have  to  postpone  our  settlement  until  to-morrow.  In  the 
meantime  you  get  your  things  ready  for  leaving  and  say  good-bye 


248  DOLORES. 

to  the  women.  They  needn't  know  the  reason  of  your  going  nor 
your  riches  either.  Do  you  hear,  uncle  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Charlie,  but  the  money — 

ft  Will  be  yours  to-morrow.  I  shall  accompany  you  to  Boston. 
I  have  business  there,  and  shall  buy  foreign  bills  of  exchange  for 
you." 

"  You  would  trouble  yourself  that  much  for  your  uncle,  Char 
lie,  would  you  ?  " 

"  It  is  no  trouble,  for  I  have  to  go  at  any  rate.  But  now  please 
excuse  me.  You  see  these  people  are  all  waiting  and  I  must  satisfy 
them." 

Uncle  Jacob  left,  and  going  home  greatly  surprised  the  women 
by  the  announcement  of  his  resolution.  Henry  was  even  more  sur 
prised  than  they,  and  with  his  wonderment  there  was  mixed  a  con 
siderable  amount  of  anger.  He  had  greatly  trusted  to  his  uncle's 
good  fortune  ;  he  had  abandoned  his  daily  pursuits  for  his  sake,  and 
now  suddenly  heard  him  announce  his  purpose  of  returning  to  his 
native  country.  What  could  it  mean  ?  Had  he  renounced  the  hope 
of  finding  the  lost  will,  or  had  somebody  paid  him  a  bonus  to  get 
him  out  of  the  way?  He  spoke  to  his  uncle,  trying  to  make  him 
reveal  the  reason  of  this  sudden  change,  but,  loquacious  as  uncle 
Jacob  naturally  was,  the  great  sum  of  money  at  stake  induced  him 
to  keep  his  peace. 

Charles  in  the  meantime  continued  his  labors  at  the  office,  his 
father  and  the  foreman  assisting  him.  The  people  had  formerly 
received  their  wages  in  banknotes,  and  it  created  joy  and  won 
derment  at  the  same  time  when  Charles  this  time  paid  down 
their  money  in  gold  coins  of  full  weight.  On  the  bank  notes  they 
had  often  to  lose  a  fraction  of  a  cent  and  more,  and  even  with  those 
at  par  there  was  always  the  possibility  of  their  being  spurious.  Gold 
is  the  currency  for  the  poor  man  ;  nothing  will  ever  induce  him  to 
prefer  to  it  paper  currency,  no  matter  how  good.  While  the  mer 
chant,  the  speculator  or  the  capitalist  is  glad  to  benefit  by  the  lighter 
and  more  convenient  banknote,  the  day  laborer  will  delight  in  noth 
ing  so  much  as  in  the  solid  coin  which  he  can  hoard  away  without 
any  danger  of  losing  the  result  of  his  hard  labor. 

Charles  was  glad  enough  to  see  the  men  satisfied,  but  he  did  not 
like  the  many  questions  they  asked  him.  Most  of  them  had  never 


DOLORES.  249 

seen  these  Spanish  coins,  and  Charles  had  to  explain  their  value  to 
almost  every  one  of  them.  Fortunately,  he  was  able  to  show  them 
the  value  of  doubloons  in  the  bank  note  detector,  otherwise  he  might 
not  have  been  able  to  induce  them  to  receive  the  money  in  spite  of 
its  being  gold. 

The  foreman  shared  the  common  wonderment  at  these  old  coins. 

"  Those  doubloons  are  quite  a  curiosity,"  he  said.  "  Where  did 
you  succeed  in  getting  so  large  a  pile  of  them  ?  " 

"  They  must  have  been  hoarded  away  by  the  former  superin 
tendent  in  some  old  box  or  other, ' '  Charles  answered  evasively,  pre 
tending  to  be  too  busy  to  give  more  detailed  explanations. 

"  I  was  a  fool  for  paying  the  hands  in  these  coins,"  he  said  to 
his  father  when  they  finally  were  alone. 

"I  warned  you  beforehand,  Charlie,  didn't  I?  " 

"  You  warned  me  against  touching  the  money  at  all,  and  not 
because  it  consisted  of  Spanish  doubloons.  At  least  I  didn't  under 
stand  you  that  way." 

"I  may  not  have  mentioned  it,  but  I  surely  had  my  misgiv- 
ings." 

"  I  am  almost  sure,  father,  you  didn't  raise  that  objection.  At 
any  rate  it  is  too  late  to  mend  the  matter  now.  The  only  thing  we 
can  do  is  to  guard  against  spending  any  more  of  that  money  in  this 
neighborhood.  I  thought  of  taking  a  check  at  our  bank  for  the 
balance  of  the  $25,000,  but  I  am  afraid  to  risk  it.  No  city  nearer 
than  Boston  will  answer  the  purpose." 

"  You  do  not  think  of  going  there,  Charlie  ?"* 

"  With  your  permission  I  do.  You  can  manage  the  factory 
alone  for  a  few  days,  can  you  not?  " 

"Well,  yes,  I  might." 

"  Then  please  raise  no  objections  to  my  going.  I  have  two 
more  objects  in  view." 

"May  I  know  them?  " 

"  Of  course,  father.  One  is  to  test  the  value  of  some  of  the 
diamonds." 

"And  the  other?" 

"  To  see  uncle  Jacob  safe  on  his  way  to  Germany." 

"  Uncle  Jacob  !  He  go  home  ?  Ha  !  ha  !  you  don't  know  my 
brother,  if  you  think  that  he  entertains  any  such  idea." 


250  DOLORES. 

"  I  do  not  think  it,  I  know  it,  father." 

"How  do  you  know  it?" 

"Simply  because  he  informed  me  of  his  resolution  last  night." 

Mr.  Fuchs  looked  at  his  son.     Shaking  his  head,  he  said  : 

"  Charles,  you  are  growing  over  my  head.  Such  things  can  go 
on  in  my  house  and  I  not  know  about  them  ?" 

"Now,  don't  scold  me,  father.  I  meant  well  and  am  still  in 
clined  to  think  that  I  acted  for  the  best." 

* '  Well,  that  may  be  ;  but  tell  me  all  about  it.  I  do  not  see 
how  in  the  world  you  could  induce  Jacob  to  give  up  his  chase  after 
the  testament." 

"  I  induced  him  by  buying  up  his  claim."         % 

"At  what  figure?" 

"  Fifty  thousand  dollars.     Was  that  fair  ?" 

"  Tolerably  fair,  but  not  legal." 

"Father,  you  come  back  to  the  old  point.  The  more  I  think 
of  it  the  more  I  am  convinced  that  we  ought  not  to  take  this  mat 
ter  before  the  courts.  I  sounded  uncle  Jacob  yesterday.  If  the 
will  is  taken  into  court  for  adjustment  Mr.  Fox  will  be  reduced  to 
beggary.  Your  brother  has  no  more  scruples  to  sacrifice  him  than 
our  cat." 

"  I  fear  you  are  right,"  Mr.  Fuchs  said  thoughtfully. 

"Very  well.  To  make  him  harmless  we  must  not  only  keep 
this  case  out  of  court  but  even  destroy  the  will." 

"Not  just  no^  Charlie." 

"Ko,  not  just  now.  With  your  permission  I  shall  show  it  to 
Mr.  Fox  on  his  return,  to  convince  him  that  its  suppression  is  in 
his  favor." 

"Yes,  he  will  see  that  he  owes  his  security  to  our  generosity." 

"  It  isn't  that,  father.  Only  in  case  the  thing  should  ever  leak 
out  I  want  an  interested  witness  to  testify  to  the  fairness  of  our 
action.  As  to  generosity  I  shall  even  go  a  step  farther  if  you  per 
mit  it." 

"  What  step  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  I  shall  allow  him  the  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  as  his  share 
of  the  money.  He  may  secretly  blame  his  misfortune  on  me,  be 
cause  I  did  not  inform  him  of  his  superintendent's  action.  The 


DOLORES.  251 

-sum  mentioned  covers  all  the  losses  and  I  shall  feel  easier  by  re 
pairing  them." 

"But  Dolores  has  to  be  consulted." 

"  I  have  her  sanction,  father." 

"Well,  I  shall  not  withhold  mine.  After  once  abandoning 
legal  grounds  we  cannot  any  longer  be  governed  by  legal  scruples, 
or  I  would  say  that  Dolores,  as  a  minor,  has  no  right  to  give  away 
anything." 

' '  She  may  be  a  minor  as  to  years,  but  her  mind  is  riper,  father, 
than  that  of  many  an  older  woman." 

"  I  think  so,  too,  and  therefore  have  no  objections." 

"  So  the  matter  is  tolerably  well  settled.  The  only  point  about 
which  we  have  to  come  to  an  understanding  is  Henry's  interest  in 
this  affair." 

"He  must  be  kept  in  total  ignorance  about  it,"  Mr.  Fuchs  said 
readily. 

* '  I  say  so,  too,  father.  The  knowledge  of  so  much  money  at 
our  disposal  would  be  an  encouragement  to  his  evil  inclinations. 
He  has  not  at  all  improved  since  his  uncle's  arrival  and  it  is  partly 
on  his  account  that  I  made  uncle  Jacob's  immediate,  departure  a 
feature  of  our  contract.  I  shall  accompany  him  to  Boston  and 
there  buy  him  bills  of  exchange  on  Frankfort. ' ' 

' '  That  is  a  good  idea.  I  cannot  say  that  I  hate  my  brother  but 
his  departure  will  take  a  burden  from  my  heart.  He  would  ruin 
Henry  beyond  a  doubt." 

"And  hold  Mrs.  Fox's  reputation  at  his  mercy." 

"Dear  me  !  I  never  thought  of  that.  Yes,  my  son,  you  man 
aged  very  well ;  but  tell  me,  did  you  inform  your  mother  of  all 
this?" 

"No,  father,  I  did  not,  simply  because  I  lacked  the  time  to  do 
it." 

"Then  you  intend  to  tell  her?" 

"Surely,  father.  I  am  proud  to  say  my  mother  is  no  gossip. 
She  can  be  trusted." 

"  Certainly  she  can  and  ought  to.  Had  I  better  tell  her  while 
you  are  absent?" 

"No,  father,  I  think  I  shall  find  leisure  to  tell  her  all  to-night. 
But  it  is  getting  late  ;  come,  let  us  go." 


252  DOLORES. 

He  seized  his  hat  and  the  two  were  on  the  point  of  leaving 
when  Charles  suddenly  grasped  his  father's  arm  : 

"Father,  tell  me,  did  Wood  use  the  larger  safe?" 

"  Yes,  Charlie  ;  why  do  you  ask  ?" 

'  *  Were  there  two  keys  to  it,  as  to  the  smaller  one  ? ' ' 

"  I  see  what  you  are  driving  at.  No,  Charlie,  I  never  saw  but 
one  ;  but  even  if  there  were  two,  you  do  not  think  that  he'd  be 
bold  enough  to  venture  here?" 

"  A  rogue  like  him  is  bold  enough  to  do  anything.  I'll  caution 
the  watchman  before  I  go." 

On  crossing  the  yard  they  found  that  individual  smoking  his 
pipe. 

"  Josiah,  have  you  got  a  revolver  with  you  ?  "  Charles  address 
ed  him. 

"No,  sir,  I  hain't.     No  use  for  one  is  there?  " 

"Well,  I  don't  know.  You  are  aware  that  Mr.  Wood  and 
George  ran  off  with  a  large  sum  of  money." 

"  They  tell  me  so,  sir." 

"  Well,  the  scoundrels  are  bold  enough  to  do  most  anything. 
•Do  you  know  how  to  use  a  revolver  ?  ' ' 

"  I  kind  *o'  think  I  handled  one  one'st  or  twiste." 

"  Very  well,  just  come  along  and  I'll  lend  you  mine.  I  want 
you  to  have  a  particular  eye  upon  the  office.  There  are  valuable 
books  and  papers  there  that  Mr.  Fox  wouldn't  like  to  lose.  I  shall 
be  absent  for  a  few  days  and  if  you'll  promise  to  take  good  care  of 
things  generally  and  the  office  particularly  I  shall  not  mind  a  few 
dollars  to  pay  you  for  your  trouble  when  I  return." 

"Exactly,  sir,  jist  give  me  the  shootin'  iron  and  I  warrant  you 
there  won't  be  nobody  agoin'  in  to  yer  office  without  payin'  toll." 

When  they  reached  the  cottage  Charles  ran  in  and  a  minute 
later  returned  with  a  revolver  which  he  handed  to  the  watchman. 

"So!"  he  said  to  his  father,  after  the  custos  had  withdrawn, 
"  I  shall  now  start  with  a  lighter  heart.  It  isn't  very  likely  he'll 
ever  show  his  face  again  at  Foxville,  but  foreseen  is  forewarned." 


DOLOEES.  253 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

A    JOURNEY. 

Charles  did  find  time  that  evening  to  see  his  mother  privately. 
If  what  she  heard  from  him  filled  her  with  great  astonishment  it 
certainly  cured  her  of  her  wonder  at  her  brother-in-law's  move 
ments.  She  understood  them  well  now  and  enjoyed  them  still  bet 
ter  ;  for  she,  too,  had  noticed  his  influence  over  Henry  and  knew 
that  it  would  hardly  have  the  tendency  of  making  her  son  any 
better.  For  that  reason,  although  she  regretted  to  lose  Charles 
•even  for  a  few  days,  she  readily  approved  of  all  his  actions  and 
especially  of  his  intended  journey.  Their  interview  occupied  so 
much  time  that  he  found  no  opportunity  of  exchanging  with 
Dolores  more  than  a  hasty  farewell  before  retiring  to  bed. 

"Mother  will  tell  you  all,"  he  whispered  as  he  passed  her,  and 
Mrs.  Fuchs  had  indeed  volunteered  to  make  her  perfectly  au  fait 
in  regard  to  the  late  development  of  affairs.  So  Charles  departed 
with  an  easy  heart.  Mr.  Fuchs  had  hitched  his  horse  to  the  light 
spring-wagon  and  sat  already  on  the  front  seat,  whip  in  hand,  when 
Charlie  and  Jacob  left  the  house,  stopping  a  moment  on  the  porch 
to  shake  hands  and  say  good-bye,  the  latter  most  likely  for  ever. 

Mr.  Fuchs  was  to  drive  the  two  to  the  station,  and  it  must  be 
confessed  that  uncle  Jacob  cut  a  much  nicer  figure  on  departing 
than  he  did  on  his  arrival.  His  brother  had  given  him  a  good 
traveling  trunk  and  such  articles  of  clothing  as  he  could  spare  him 
self  or  procure  in  the  village. 

At  the  factory  they  stopped  a  moment  to  take  from  the  office  a 
small  but  very  heavy  valise.  It  took  Charles'  entire  strength  to 
lift  it  into  the  wagon,  and  the  watchman  could  not  help  wondering 
at  a  weight  so  out  of  proportion  to  the  size. 

' '  I  calculate  that's  part  of  them  birds  we  got  the  other  day. 
It's  no  wonder  he  don't  fancy  to  have  anybody  hook  that  there 
breed.  But  rest  easy,  sar,  rest  ye  intirely  easy,  I  and  this  shootin' 
iron  shall  do  our  dewty." 

Charles  was  glad  when  the  factory  was  left  behind.  It  was 
early  yet,  the  fog  and  sunlight  battling  for  the  mastery.  The 
scenery  was  pretty  enough,  fantastic  forms  of  fog  varying  every 


254  DOLORES. 

minute.  Now  this  misty  veil  showed  through  a  sudden  rent  a 
handsome  farm  with  fields,  meadows  and  orchards,  and  a  minute 
later  the  rent  was  showed  up  by  rapid  spirit  hands  and  a  new  one 
made,  through  which  a  forest,  a  creek,  a  rivulet  displayed  them 
selves  to  the  eyes  of  the  travelers.  The  distance  was  a  short  one, 
not  more  than  three  miles,  and  the  stout  pacer  of  Mr.  Fuchs  soon 
took  them  over  it,  landing  them  safely  at  the  depot  They  were 
just  in  time  for  the  morning  train.  Charles  had  to  use  all  his 
strength  to  preserve  an  easy  gait  while  carrying  his  carpet-bag. 

"The  cars  for  Boston  will  leave  in  five  minutes."  It  is  time 
for  Mr.  Fuchs  to  say  good-bye.  An  earnest  "  God  bless  you  "  to 
his  son,  a  "  happy  journey  "  to  his  brother  and  he  leaves  the  car 
and  standing  outside  at  the  window  watches  the  two  until  the  bell 
begins  to  ring  and  the  train  to  set  itself  in  motion.  Looking  after 
it  he  remains  five  minutes  without  stirring  from  the  place.  He 
meditates  without  endeavoring  to  get  a  clear  impression  of  his 
thoughts.  Only  this  he  knows,  he  feels  no  sorrow  at  parting  from 
a  brother  whom  he  is  not  very  likely  to  see  again.  He  also  knows 
that  this  brother  is  even  more  indifferent,  gazing  with  feverish  im 
patience  towards  the  hour  that  will  put  him  in  possession  of  the 
dear,  the  long-coveted  thousands. 

But  his  horse  impatiently  paws  the  ground,  so  he  goes  and 
jumping  into  the  wagon  whips  him  into  a  fast  gait,  in  order  to  for 
get  his  thoughts  by  the  rapid  motion. 

The  train  also  proceeds  on  its  way,  increasing  its  speed  from  sec 
ond  to  second,  until  at  last  it  reaches  its  maximum  rapidity  and 
then  with  suspended  breath,  as  it  were,  hurries  the  passengers  over 
hill  and  dale,  even  through  the  bowels  of  the  earth. 

Towns  are  reached  and  left  behind  ;  big  forests  passed  which,  in 
consequence  of  the  rapid  motion,  appear  as  mere  groves,  fit  for  Sun 
day-school  picnics.  Cows  grazing  along  the  railway  are  condensed 
in  herds  of-  such  magnitude  that  we  wonder  how  one  farmer  can 
manage  to  milk  so  many,  and  what  in  the  world  he  does  with  all 
the  milk,  and  cream,  and  butter. 

At  length  darkness  descends  upon  the  earth.  It  throws  its  veil 
over  all  the  country  around  us.  We  know  there  is  something  there, 
though,  and  we  feel  oppressed  at  the  thought  of  the  existence  of  so 
many  things  of  which  we  fail  to  form  the  slightest  idea.  But  this, 


DOLORES.  255 

too,  does  not  last  long.  We  are  tired  of  thinking,  and,  closing  our 
eyes,  manage  to  snatch  a  few  moments  of  slumber  from  which, 
however,  every  shrill  whistle  awakens  us,  causing  us  to  start  and 
wonder  whether  the  steam-pipe  will  not  soon  whistle  for  our  station. 

Nothing  is  eternal  on  earth  ;  even  a  day's  journey  on  the  rail 
road  comes  to  a  terminus.  Even  f  I  hear  the  reader  ask.  Yes, 
even,  or  has  it  entirely  escaped  their  observation  that  our  impatience 
increases  in  the  exact  ratio  of  our  means  of  gratifying  it  ?  Who 
ever  thought  of  grumbling  about  slow  speed  in  the  days  of  canal- 
boats  and  stage-coaches  ?  Only  since  railroads  have  been  in  vogue 
has  it  become  the  fashion  to  be  impatient  and  lament  the  loss  of  a 
half  hour  as  if  it  were  the  last  one  at  the  disposal  of  the  traveler 
and  badly  needed  to  make  his  piece  with  Heaven. 

Charles  and  his  uncle  reached  Boston  in  safety,  but  at  an  hour 
when  even  in  great  cities  people  begin  to  seek  their  pillow.  Charles 
happened  to  recollect  the  name  of  the  hotel  which  Mr.  Fox  was  in 
the  habit  of  frequenting  on  his  trips  to  Boston,  and  securing  a  car 
riage,  ordered  the  driver  to  take  them  there.  Fortunately  there 
was  room  in  the  house,  and  the  young  man  secured  two  adjoining 
apartments  for  himself  and  uncle. 

Charles  was  an  early  riser.  In  spite  of  yesterday's  fatigue  he 
was  ready  for  breakfast  while  uncle  Jacob  still  snored  away  with  a 
skill  such  as  only  long  practice  can  give.  So  the  young  man  went 
down  stairs  and  after  taking  his  breakfast  went  into  the  office. 

"  Is  Mr.  Fox  here  ?  "  he  asked  the  clerk. 

"  Which  Mr.  Fox,  sir?  We  have  several  guests  by  that  name. 
There  is  one  of  them  with  us  just  now." 

"  The  Mr.  Fox  I  mean  hails  from  Foxville,  Maine.  His  first 
name  is  Edward." 

"  That's  the  man,  sir  ;  he  lodges  in  No.  8,  second  floor.  You 
will  find  him  in  now  ;  hasn't  had  his  breakfast  yet." 

"Not  just  now,  sir.  Please  don't  mention  to  Mr.  Fox  that  I 
inquired  for  him  ;  I  want  to  surprise  him  on  my  return  to  the  ho 
tel.  Can  you  give  me  the  address  of  some  prominent  jeweler  who- 
deals  in  diamonds  ? " 

"Yes,  sir,  I  can  ;  there  are  Messrs.  Ruby  &  Co.,  No.  279  this 
street,  a  very  prompt  and  reliable  firm.  Nothing  bogus  there  ;  all 
genuine,  all  solid." 


256  DOLORES. 

1 '  Are  they  likely  to  be  open  at  this  early  hour  ?  " 

"Generally  open  about  this  time,  between  eight  and  nine.  What 
time  is  it  now?  Half-past  eight.  Yes,  sir,  I  think  you'll  find  them 
open." 

"  Very  well,  I  shall  go  there.  Much  obliged  for  your  informa 
tion." 

"  No  occasion,  sir  ;  just  go  down  this  street.  No.  279  ;  you  can 
hardly  miss  it." 

Charles  followed  the  directions  and  reached  the  store  just  as  the 
doors  were  opened  to  the  public. 

"  Mr.  Ruby  in  ?"  he  asked  the  janitor. 

"  No,  sir  ;  he  is  hardly  ever  here  before  twelve  o'clock,  but  his 
partner,  Mr.  Brilliant,  is  in  the  office." 

"  That  will  answer,"  the  young  man  replied,  walking  the  length 
of  the  store  to  a  small  room  which  was  separated  from  the  store  by 
a  glass  partition,  and  by  the  desk,  stools  and  arm-chairs  announced 
itself  at  once  as  the  office.  On  entering  Charles  found  a  young  man 
who  was  sitting  in  an  arm-chair  reading  the  morning  paper.  When 
he  observed  the  stranger  he  politely  saluted  him,  and,  rising  to  his 
feet  asked  what  he  wished." 

"  I  wanted  to  see  Mr.  Ruby  on  business,  but  since  he  is  absent, 
as  I  hear,  any  other  head  of  the  firm  will  answer  as  well." 

"  I  am  his  partner,  sir  ;  please  take  a  seat." 

"  After  accepting  the  invitation  Charles  drew  a  small  paper  box 
from  his  pocket. 

"Mr.  Brilliant,  if  I  am  right?" 

"  Brilliant,  sir,  is  my  name." 

"  Well,  Mr.  Brilliant,  I  have  by  inheritance  become  heir  to  a 
fine  selection  of  diamonds  which  I  should  like  to  dispose  of.  I  need 
the  money  more  than  the  jewels,  besides  being  no  great  admirer  of 
trinkets  of  that  kind." 

"  Have  you  got  the  stones  with  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  have  some  of  them.  1  was  afraid  to  carry  a  larger 
number  on  account  of  the  insecurity  of  large  cities,  such  as  Boston." 

Mr.  Brilliant  took  the  box  and  opened  it.  On  perceiving  the 
stones  he  started  ;  that  was  more  than  he  had  expected.  He  had 
seldom  seen  a  more  brilliant  selection  of  diamonds,  and  yet  this 
young  man  said  they  were  only  a  part  of  those  in  his  possession. 


DOLOKES.  257 

The  enthusiast  for  once  got  the  better  of  the  shrewd  business  man 
and  he  said  : 

"  My  dear  sir,  do  you  know  that  you  have  a  fine  selection  of  dia 
monds  there  ?  Your  relative  must  have  been  a  pretty  rich  fellow 
to  leave  you  such  diamonds." 

' '  He  was  an  old  bachelor  and  a  queer  kind  of  a  fellow.  I  never 
knew  him  personally,  but  those  who  did  tell  me  that  he  was  fond 
of  collecting  them." 

.  ' '  May  I  request  your  name  sir  ?  " 

"Why?" 

"  Because  we  could  hardly  venture  on  so  large  a  purchase  with 
out  knowing  the  name  of  the  owner  and  receiving  some  good  refer 
ence.  They  might  be — " 

"Stolen?  "  Charles  continued,  when  the  other  hesitated,  half 
vexed,  half  amused  at  the  idea. 

"  Do  I  look  like  a  thief,  sir  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  you  do  not,  and  you  must  pardon  my  straightfor 
wardness.  But  we  cannot  always  take  a  person's  looks  as  an  index 
of  his  character,  and  if  you  had  been  bitten  as  often  as  we  have, 
sir,  you  would  not  only  find  our  caution  excusable,  but  even  neces 
sary.  ' ' 

Charles  mused  a  moment. 

"  Do  you  happen  to  know  a  certain  Mr.  Fox,  of  Foxville,  State 
of  Maine?" 

"  Mr.  Edward  Fox,  owner  of  a  cutlery  factory  ?  " 

"  The  very  same,  Charles  said,  greatly  relieved  at  the  thought 
of  being  able  now  to  refer  to  him.  "  Would  a  reference  from  him 
answer  your  purpose,  even  if  I  prefer  to  maintain  my  incognitio  ?  " 

"Perfectly,  sir." 

Without  any  further  words  Charles  stepped  to  a  desk,  penned 
a  few  lines  and  after  folding  and  sealing  the  note,  addressed  it  to 
Mr.  Edward  Fox, Hotel,  No.  8. 

"So,"  he  said,  turning  agfrin  to  Mr.  Brillant,  "if  you'll  have 
the  kindness  to  send  this  to  its  address  you'll  have  satisfaction  in 
less  than  ten  mtoiutes." 

Mr.  Brillant  called  a  boy,  ordering  him  to  carry  the  letter  to 
the  address  and  wait  for  an  answer.  Then  he  resumed  his  examina 
tion  of  the  stones  and  was  still  engaged  in  that  agreeable  pastime 


258  DOLORES. 

-when  the  boy  returned  with  an  answer.    On  opening  it  Mr.  Brillant 
read  as  follows : 

HOTEL,  Nov.  5th,  1858. 

MR.  BRILLANT. — Dear  Sir:  I  heartily  endorse  any  transaction 
of  the  writer  of  the  note  you  sent  me.  You  may  consider  me  as  re 
sponsible  for  anything  he  does. 

Yours  truly, 

EDWARD  Fox. 

"That  is  more  than  sufficient,  sir,"  Mr.  Brillant  addressed  our 
friend.  "I  beg  pardon  again  for  my  necessary  caution.  Have 
you  already  fixed  a  value  on  these  stones  ? ' ' 

"Only  a  very  vague  one,  sir.  To  tell  you  the  honest  truth, 
sir,  I  am  a  very  poor  judge  of  precious  stones  and  came  to  you  be 
cause  you  have  the  reputation  of  great  fairness.  State  the  sum 
you  can  afford  to  give  for  the  stones  and  I  am  inclined  to  think 
that  I  shall  accept  your  offer. ' ' 

' '  Mr.  Brillant  now  examined  stone  after  stone  in  the  most  care 
ful  manner.  It  took  him  fully  half  an  hour  to  get  through,  but 
when  he  was  through  he  had  also  made  up  his  mind." 

"  These  are  beautiful  stones,"  he  said,  "but  then  some  of  them 
have  to  be  cut  and  that  is  rather  expensive.  We  could  give  you 
fifty  thousand  dollars  for  the  stones  and  not  a  cent  more." 

Charles  had  taken  somewhat  less  than  half  the  stones.  The 
offer  was  more  than  he  had  expected  and  he  at  once  signified  his 
readiness  to  accept  it. 

"  You  will  double  your  sum  on  those  diamonds,"  he  said,  "  but 
that  is  no  more  than  fair.  A  man  don't  lay  out  fifty  thousand  dol 
lars  for  nothing.  I  shall  take  your  offer  provided  I  can  have  the 
sum  at  once." 

Mr.  Brillant  scratched  his  head,  and  said  : 

"Fifty  thousand  dollars  is  no  child's  play.  Can  you  wait  till 
noon?"  " 

"lean." 

'  *  Then  the  stones  are  mine.  Here,  take  them,  and  if  you  will 
call  about  twelve  o'clock  you  will  find  me  ready  to  pay  you." 

"  I  don't  want  the  stones  with  me,"  Charles  replied.  "A  due 
note  for  the  full  amount  will  answer  the  purpose." 

Mr.  Brillant  wrote  the  note  and  Charles,  after  pocketing  it, 
withdrew  from  the  store.  He  hurried  back  to  the  hotel  and  taking 


DOLORES.  259 

his  carpet-bag  with  him,  was  going  to  start  on  a  second  expedition 
when  the  clerk  stopped  him. 

"  The  gentleman  who  arrived  with  you  seems  to  be  in  great 
tribulation  about  your  absence.  He  talks  a  language  I  do  not  un 
derstand — German,  I  believe — and  perhaps  you  had  better  see  him 
a  moment  just  to  put  him  at  his  ease." 

Charles  laughed. 

"The  old  fool!"  he  cried.  ''Have  you  nobody  in  the  house 
who  speaks  his  language  ?" 

"  One  of  the  waiters  does,  sir." 

"Well,  then,  just  tell  him  to  bear  with  me  for  one  more  hour. 
If  I  go  up  I'll  never  disengage  myself  again.  The  old  fellow  is  a 
perfect  sticking  plaster." 

"  Very  well,  sir,  I'll  do  your  bidding." 

Charles  left  the  house  and,  walking  down  the  street,  entered 
the  office  of  the  first  private  banking  house  he  came  to. 

"What  do  you  pay  for  doubloons?"  he  asked  a  man  behind 
the  counter. 

The  banker  stated  the  price. 

*'  Do  you  feel  disposed  to  buy  any  ?" 

"  As  many  as  you  have,'1  the  man  said  with  a  smile. 

Charles  opened  his  valise  and  as  he  pulled  out  bag  after  bag  and 
placed  them  in  a  line  on  the  counter  the  countenance  of  the  banker 
gradually  became  more  respectful.  So  it  is  in  this  world.  They 
don't  value  us  according  to  what  we  are  but  what  we  have,  and 
their  faces,  like  thermometers,  indicate  the  degree  of  respect  which, 
according  to  their  opinion,  correspond  with  our  means. 

When  the  valise  had  become  exhausted  the  banker  and  a  few 
assistants  counted  the  doubloons  with  the  rapidity  and  accuracy 
peculiar  to  the  tribe.  After  counting,  the  lead  pencil  wandered 
for  a  minute  over  a  piece  of  paper  and  the  calculation  being  finish 
ed  it  was  laid  before  Charles  without  a  word  of  explanation. 
Figures  speak  for  themselves.  What  use  is  there  in  wasting  breath 
on  them  ? 

Charles  had  made  his  own  calculation  at  home.  The  difference 
was  too  immaterial  to  cavil  over,  and  he  said  : 

' '  Very  well,  sir." 

* '  What  kind  of  money  do  you  want  ? ' ' 


260  DOLORES. 

"  None  just  at  present.  I  prefer  a  couple  of  accepted  orders  on 
your  house." 

"To  what  amount?" 

"One  eleven,  the  other  nine  thousand  dollars;  payable  to 
bearer." 

"  Here  they  are,  sir." 

Charles  pocketed  these  orders  like  the  first  one  and  then,  with 
the  help  of  the  directory,  searched  and  found  the  firms  to  whom 
Mr.  Fox  was  indebted. 

Calling  at  the  first  creditor  he  stated  his  readiness  to  settle  Mr. 
Fox's  bill. 

The  man  looked  astonished. 

"  Why,  how  is  this?"  he  asked.  "  He  was  here  but  yesterday 
stating  his  inability.  The  debt  is  in  the  hands  of  our  attorney  for 
collection." 

"Will  you  withdraw  it  on  payment?" 

"Of  course  we  will." 

"  Here  is  a  draft  for  eleven  thousand  dollars." 

The  head  of  the  firm  seemed  to  be  a  little  ashamed,  an4  Charles 
imagined  that  Mr.  Fox  must  have  been  subjected  to  rather  humilia 
ting  treatment.  Taking  his  receipt  he  started  for  the  second  firm 
and  after  having  arranged  matters  there  to  mutual  satisfaction,  he 
returned  to  the  hotel. 

"It  is  time  you  are  coming,  sir,"  the  clerk  said  with  a  laugh  ; 
"  your  friend  is  roaring  like  a  hungry  lion." 

Charles  muttered  something  like  an  imprecation  while  he  ran 
up  stairs,  taking  three  steps  at  a  time.  The  door  of  his  uncle's 
room  was  left  upon  the  latch  and  he  could  hear  how  the  old  gentle 
man  lamented  in  his  native  tongue  to  some  one  within. 

"The  young  rogue!"  he  heard  him  cry,  "to  leave  his  poor 
uncle  in  such  a  fix  !  To  leave  him  in  a  strange  town,  in  a  strange 
hotel,  with  no  means  to  pay  expenses  !  I  might  have  known  it 
would  come  to  this,  old  fool  that  I  was  ;  yes,  I  might  have  known 
from  the  way  he  soft-soaped  me.  But  it  shall  cost  him  dear,  this 
joke  upon  his  uncle.  I  shall  without  delay  walk  back  to  Foxville 
and  have  him  arrested  for  false  pretenses  ;  yes,  for  swindling." 

That  was  as  much  as  Charles  wanted  to  hear.  Pushing  the 
door  open  with  an  energetic  jerk  he  rapidly  stepped  into  the  room 


DOLORES.  2  61 

and  stood  before  his  uncle  with  brows  contracted  and  a  flashing  eye 
that  portended  little  good  to  the  whining  adventurer.  In  fact  he 
stopped  as  suddenly  as  if  a  slap  had  shut  his  lips  ;  his  figure  assumed 
a  bent  posture  and  his  hands  were  clasped  partly  in  astonishment, 
partly  in  supplication. 

Charles  was  on  the  point  of  giving  way  to  his  indignation,  but 
the  presence  of  the  waiter  caused  him  to  check  himself. 

"  Have  the  kindness  to  leave  us  for  a  moment,"  Charles  said 
to  the  servant,  and  when  the  man  had  obeyed  his  injunction  he  ad 
dressed  his  uncle  : 

"What  does  this  farce  signify?"  he  said  sternly.  "Am  I  to 
infer  from  your  conduct  that  you  have  gone  crazy  ?  Indeed  in  no 
other  way  can  I  explain  to  myself  this  ridiculous  conduct." 

"  Now,  Charlie,  please  don't  be  mad.     I  thought — I  feared — 

"  Say  nothing  more,  sir,  for  I  fear  that  your  thoughts  embodied 
a  gross  insult  to  myself.  I  ask  no  excuses,  sir  ;  but  I  will  say  this, 
if  you  once  more  conduct  yourself  in  this  disgraceful  manner  I 
shall  at  once  leave  you  to  your  fate,  and  take  good  care,  too,  that 
the  door  of  my  father's  house  will  not  be  opened  again  to  you." 

Uncle  Jacob  was  completely  cowed.  Charles  looked  at  his 
watch  ,t  it  was  exactly  twelve  o'clock. 

"  Take  your  hat,  sir,  and  come  with  me,"  he  said  in  the  same 
stern  tone.  "  I  shall  buy  the  drafts  I  promised  you  and  then  dis 
patch  you  without  delay.  There  is  but  little  pleasure  in  your  com 
pany." 

Uncle  Jacob  took  his  hat  and  silently  followed  Charles  down 
stairs.  The  clerk  tried  to  catch  a  glance  of  intelligence  from  the 
young  man,  but  Charles  was  not  at  all  willing  to  make  him  a  party 
of  this  embroglio  and  therefore  passed  him  without  vouchsafing 
him  a  single  look. 

"  Proud  like  the  dickens,"  the  clerk  muttered  to  himself.  "  I 
shouldn't  wonder  if  that  poor  old  gentleman  had  good  reasons  for 
his  lamentations  after  all.  If  the  trunk  wasn't  here  I  would  pre 
sent  the  bill  at  once." 

"  Inconsistent  Mr.  Clerk  !  You  are  not  the  only  individual  who 
measures  the  character  of  others  by  the  scale  of  his  sensitiveness.  A 
man  is  a  perfect  gentleman  if  he  smiles  on  you,  but  if  he  steps  by 
chance  upon  your  corn  he  is  a  low-bred  pup. 


262  DOLORES. 

Fortunately  for  Charles  the  remark  of  the  clerk  did  not  affect 
him.  Walking  rapidly  he  soon  reached  the  jeweler  who  had  pur 
chased  his  diamonds.  Mr.  Ruby  was  present  now,  and  compli 
mented  the  stranger  on  the  possession  of  such  nice  stones.  After 
redeeming  their  note  and  receiving  the  receipt  of  Charles  the  deal 
ers  requested  him  to  call  on  them  first  in  case  he  should  wish  to 
dispose  of  his  other  stones.  This  he  promised  and  then  left  the 
store,  followed  more  than  accompanied  by  his  uncle,  who  found  diffi 
culty  in  keeping  up  with  his  nephew's  rapid  steps,  and  yet  shunned 
to  remonstrate  with  him. 

All  at  once  Charles  stopped.  He  had  discovered  a  sign  that  at 
tracted  his  attention.  It  read  : 

*  • * 

1  "TRANS ATLANTIC  STEAMSHIP  COMPANY."  : 

* * 

A  circular  pasted  in  the  show  window  informed  the  public  that 
the  splendid  steamer  Sea  Serpent  would  leave  for  Antwerp  the  next 
morning  ;  also  that  bills  of  exchange  on  any  European  city  were 
sold  and  bought  here  at  the  cheapest  rate. 

Charles  had  found  what  he  wanted. 

"Come  in,"  he  laconically  addressed  his  uncle,  and  entering 
the  building  informed  one  of  the  clerks  that  he  wanted  to  buy  bills 
of  exchange  on  Frankfort  and  also  engage  a  stateroom  on  the  Sea 
Serpent. 

11  To  what  amount  would  you  want  the  bills  ?"  the  clerk  in 
quired. 

"  Forty-nine  thousand  dollars  in  favor  of  Jacob  Fuchs,"  Charles 
replied,  laying  as  many  notes  on  the  counter. 

The  clerk  smiled.  They  don't  charge  for  smiles  in  money  insti 
tutions,  but  they  don't  smile  on  paupers  either.  They  are  very 
quick  at  such  places,  but  for  849,000  they  surpass  themselves. 
Charles  had  his  bills  in  less  than  ten  minutes. 

"  Now  the  stateroom,"  he  said. 

"  Exactly,  sir,  you  can  have  your  choice.  Here  is  No.  28,  which 
I  can  recommend  to  you  with  a  good  conscience,  because  I  once 
made  the  trip  in  it  myself." 

"Let  it  be  No.  28,  then." 

"What  name,  sir?" 


DOLOKES.  263 

"Jacob  Fuchs." 

' '  One  hundred  dollars,  sir,  if  you  please.  Thank  you.  Here 
is  your  ticket.  You  had  better  send  you  baggage  to  the  vessel  at 
once." 

"I  shall,  sir.     Good-day." 

"  Now  for  the  trunk  and  then  to  the  vessel." 

At  the  hotel  Charles  settled  his  uncle's  bill  and  then  ordered  a 
carriage. 

"  You  forgot  to  pay  your  own  bill,"  the  clerk  said,  somewhat 
impudently. 

"  I  do  not  intend  to  leave  yet." 

"  That  makes  no  difference.  It  is  our  custom  to  collect  the  bill 
in  advance  where  there  is  no  baggage  to  secure  it." 

Charles  pitched  him  a  hundred  dollar  note. 

**  "I  commend  your  caution, "  he  said,  derisively.  "It  speaks 
well  for  the  class  of  guests  you  deal  with.  Does  that  suffice  as  se 
curity  ? " 

The  clerk  was  as  susceptible  to  the  influence  of  money  as  other 
persons.  Besides,  Charles  had  spoken  haughtily,  and  it  is  the  priv 
ilege  of  nabobs  to  order  their  fellow  men  about.  Handing  back  the 
money  he  said  : 

"  Never  mind,  sir,  about  the  money.  We  can  afford  to  make  an 
exception  in  your  case." 

"  But  I  cannot  afford  to  accept  a  favor  from  you,  sir.  Keep  the 
bill  until  we  settle." 

The  clerk  felt  cheap  when  Charles  left  the  office. 

"  He  must  be  something  big,"  the  consistant  logician  muttered 
to  himself. 

It  was  a  fact,  however  ;  Charles  had  the  airs  of  a  duke. 

Away  the  carriage  rolled,  landing  them  in  due  time  at  the  pier 
where  the  Sda  Serpent  lay  at  anchor.  Entrusting  the  trunk  to  a 
porter  Charles  led  his  uncle  to  the  office  of  the  steamer,  and  on  pre 
senting  his  ticket  was  shown  to  No.  28. 

"  Sit  down,  sir,"  the  young  man  said,  accompanying  his  words 
with  a  motion  of  his  hand  and  taking  a  chair  himself.  ' '  I  want  to 
settle  with  you." 

Uncle  Jacob  had  not  yet  recovered  from  his  depression,  so  he 
obeyed  his  nephew  and  looked  at  him  in  expectation. 


264  DOLORES. 

"  Here  are  849,000  in  bills  of  exchange,"  the  young  man  re 
sumed  ;  here  is  your  ticket  and  here  the  sum  of  $900  in  cash.  That 
makes  850,000,  does  it  not  ?  " 

"Yes,  Charlie,  so  it  does.     You  are  a  good  lad,  and  I  hope — " 

' '  I  hope  that  you  will  abstain  from  hoping  anything  at  all.  We 
are  done,  sir,  and  I  shall  now  see  that  you  live  up  to  the  letter  and 
spirit  of  our  contract.  There  is  no  necessity  for  leaving  this  vessel 
any  more.  You  know  she  will  leave  early  in  the  morning." 

' '  Yes,  Charlie,  I  know. ' ' 

"  Then  you  had  better  stay  on  board.  If  you  don't,  I  will  not 
be  responsible  for  any  losses  you  may  sustain." 

"  I  shall  stay  on  board,  my  boy.  I  am  too  glad  to  have  reached 
it  to  leave  it  again  this  side  of  the? Atlantic. " 

"  Very  well.  You  will  no  longer  need  me,  and  I  may  as  well 
wish  you  a  pleasant  voyage  and  retire."  / 

"Won't  you  shake  hands,  Charlie?"  Jacob  said,  reproach 
fully. 

"  If  it  gives  you  any  satisfaction,  why  not  ?  " 

Charles  spoke  and  shook  hands  with  equal  coldness.  He  could 
not  force  himself  to  feign  a  sorrow  he  did  not  feel.  His  uncle's 
character  had  filled  him  with  extreme  distrust. 

So  they  parted,  Charles  sincerely  hoped  forever.  He  had  or 
dered  the  cabman  to  wait  for  him,  and  now  drove  rapidly  to  the  ho 
tel.  It  was  near  dinner-time  and  Mr.  Fox  was  at  home.  Charles 
knocked  at  his  door,  and  on  the  inmate's  "  Come  in,"  entered.  Mr. 
Fox  sat  on  a  lotljige,  and  Charles  was  frightened  at  the  great  change 
which  the  days  of  their  separation  had  produced  on  his  face.  The 
furrows  on  the  forehead  had  deepened,  and  the  cheeks  looked  pale 
and  hollow.  The  lips,  not  over-firm  before,  now  hung  down  with 
an  expression  of  utter  helplessness.  On  perceiving  the  young  man 
Mr.  Fox  half  arose,  with  a  shadow  of  his  former  jovialty  in  his  face.. 
He  stretched  his  hand  towards  the  young  man  and  said  : 

"  Ah  !  there  you  are  at  last,  my  boy.  I  have  been  expecting 
you  ever  since  the  reception  of  your  note.  Was  my  reply  of  any 
use  to  you  ?  ' ' 

"  It  was,  sir,  and  I  thank  you  for  your  confidence." 

"  Confidence  ?  Ah  !  Charlie,  I  wish  I  could  trust  all  the  world 
as  much  as  you. ' ' 


DOLORES.  265 

"  The  world  seems  to  have  dealt  roughly  with  you,  my  dear  sir. 
You  look  pale  and  haggard." 

"  The  world  is  the  world,  Charlie  ;  It  smiles  upon  the  prosper 
ous,  it  frowns  upon  the  unfortunate.  It  frowns  upon  me,  my  boy, 
at  present  ;  that  tells  the  whole  story." 

"  You  have  not  been  successful,  then,  in  your  endeavors  ?  " 

"  They  have  been  worse  than  failures,  Charlie.  This  Italian 
war  has  made  money  so  tight  that  affairs  have  much  the  appearance 
of  a  panic.  I  have  tried  every  means  to  raise  the  necessary  money 
but  I  have  failed.  Everybody  has  treated  me  with  such  a  strange 
distrust  that  I  sometimes  have  felt  inclined  to  see  more  in  it  than 
the  general  suspicion  incident  to  times  of  panic." 

11  Mr.  Wood's  doings,"  Charles  suggested. 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder  ;  indeed  I  have  thought  so  to.  But  that 
fact  does  not  much  alter  things.  I  cannot  pay  my  debts  ;  I  lack  the 
means  to  carry  on  the  factory,  and  the  sale  of  my  property  under 
very  disadvantageous  circumstances  arises*  before  my  mind  as  an 
unavoidable  calamity. ' ' 

"  J  s  the  want  of  money  the  only  thing  that  troubles  you  ?  Par 
don  the  question,  Mr.  Fox,  since  it  is  dictated  by  the  most  sincere 
sympathy."  » 

"  I  know,  my  boy,  I  know  that  very  well,"  Mr.  Fox  said  ear 
nestly,  seizing  and  pressing  Charlie's  hand.  "  I  wish  Providence 
had  bestowed  upon  me  the  gift  of  such  a  son.  Indeed,  it  gives  me 
pleasure  to  think  of  you  as  one  related  by  the  ties  of  consanguin- 
ity." 

"  Then,  Mr.  Fox,  you  will  relate  to  me  all  that  troubles  you  ? 
Perhaps  I  can  relieve  you  more  than  you  may  think." 

Mr.  Fox  shook  his  head. 

* '  That  is  hardly  possible,  my  boy.  My  other  sorrows  are  sor 
rows  of  the  heart,  and  engendered  by  the  unworthy  conduct  of  my 
family.  Do  you  understand  me  now  ?  ' ' 

' '  I  do,  sir,  but  yet  I  do  not  despair  of  offering  effective  consola 
tion.  First  let  me  tell  you,  Mr.  Fox,  that  I  have  good  news  from 
home." 

' '  You  allude  to  Mrs.  Fox  ?     Ah  !  Charlie,  may  not  in  this  in 
stance  good  news  be  bad  and  bad  news  good  ? " 

Charles  started. 


266  DOLORES. 

'*  Mr.  Fox,"  he  said,  with  somewhat  of  reproach  in  his  tones, 
"  you  cannot  really  desire  the  death  of  a  repentant  sinner?  " 

"  She  is  repentant,  then  ?  "  he  asked  with  an  averted  look." 

"  Not  so  much  in  words  as  actions.  We  have  managed  to  im 
press  her  with  the  belief  that  the  causes  of  her  sickness  are  un 
known  to  all  but  her.  This  has  quickened  her  recovery  and  un 
doubtedly  engendered  her  resolution  to  bury  the  past  in  oblivion 
and  begin  a  new  life." 

He  stopped  as  if  expecting  a  question  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Fox, 
but  when  that  gentleman  preserved  his  silence,  Charles  continued  : 

"  Her  former  aversion  to  Dolores  has  suddenly  changed  into  so 
ardent  an  affection  as  to  arouse  the  jealousy  of  even  gentle  Lucy. 
Indeed,  Dolores  had  to  remain  with  her  night  and  day,  and  to  her 
care  and  magnetic  influence  the  doctor  ascribes  the  rapid  convales 
cence  of  the  patient." 

Mr.  Fox  became  interested  against  his  will. 

"  And  Dolores  ?  "  h*  inquired. 

' '  Has  conducted  herself  in  this  affair  with  the  strange  good  tact 
she  always  shows.  '  *  She  nurses  Mrs.  Fox  with  the  love  and  pa 
tience  of  a  daughter,  and  has  even  influenced  Lucy's  stubbornness 
when  she  refused  to  pardon  her  erring  mother." 

Mr.  Fox  groaned. 

"  That  is  the  point,  Charlie,"  he  cried,  "  the  thorn  in  my  side 
that  turns  my  food  into  poison  and  makes  my  nights  sleepless.  Thus 
to  be  deceived  by  the  mate  of  my  house  and  bed  ;  to  have  the 
honor  of  my  name  sullied  before  the  eyes  of  a  prying  world.  It  is 
enough  to  drive  one  to  madness." 

Charles  took  Mr.  Fox's  hand. 

"  My  dear  sir,  will  you  tolerate  the  advice  and  consolation  of 
one  as  young  as  I  ?" 

1  'Speak,  my  boy." 

"  Well,  then,  allow  me  to  assure  you  that  you  look  at  this  in 
too  dark  a  light.  As  to  the  world,  it  will  never  know  this  false  step 
of  Mrs.  Fox's.  Dr.  Palmer  is  the  only  one  outside  of  our  family 
who  knows  it,  and  I  will  answer  for  him  myself." 

"  Yes,  Dr.  Palmer  is  true." 

"  Very  well.     Henry,  fortunately,  was  asleep  at  the  time  of  the 


DOLORES.  267 

accident,  and  the  only  dangerous  witness  has  just  taken  the  steamer 
for  Europe." 

"  Whom  do  you  mean  ?"  Mr.  Fox  inquired,  with  a  start. 

"  My  uncle  Jacob.  We  have  induced  him  to  return  to  his  na 
tive  country.  That  is  only  one  of  the  many  strange  events  I  have 
to  tell  you  ;  but  everything  in  due  time.  At  present  let  me  return 
to  the  poor  patient  at  our  house.  We  have  all  buried  the  occur 
rence  in  the  deepest  recesses  of  our  soul.  Mr.  Fox,  could  you  not 
do  the  same  ?  Could  you  not  pardon  the  poor  lady's  offense  and 
allow  her  to  open  a  new  record  ?  I  know  well  enough  that  you  are 
a  deeply  injured  man,  but  from  what  my  mother  says  there  has 
been  such  a  radical  change  in  Mrs.  Fox  that  there  is  no  doubt  of 
much  happiness  in  store  for  you  if  you  can  only  overcome  a  resent 
ment  which,  though  natural,  is  neither  Christian  nor  politic." 

"  You  are  a  warm  advocate,  Charlie,  Mr.  Fox  said  with  a  smile 
that  drove  much  of  the  former  gloom  away  from  his  countenance, 
' '  but  you  ask  impossibilities.  A  man  cannot  change  his  heart  in 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  All  111  promise  you  is  to  make  the  -effort 
to  forget." 

"  I  ask  no  more.     But  in  regard  to  the  new  state  of  affairs." 

11  Of  course  I'll  recognize  them.  The  future  will  much  depend 
on  her  conduct." 

"  Then  I  predict  a  happy  solution.  But,  Mr.  Fox,  there  is  an 
other  sore  spot  you  haven't  touched  as  yet.  Let  me  spare  you  the 
pain  by  stating  that  Richard  is  its  name." 

Mr.  Fox  nodded. 

"  Is  he  really  so  bad  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  have  been  obliged  to  listen  to  a  long  record  of  shame 
and  sin  since  my  arrival  here,"  Mr.  Fox  said,  with  a  sigh.  "  His 
employer  has  dismissed  him  long  ago,  and  thus  far  all  my  efforts  to 
ferret  him  out  have  been  unsuccessful." 

"  That  is  too  bad,  indeed.  How -may  he  manage  to  exist  with 
out  your  support  ?  " 

"  I  fear  he  has  received  assistance  from  his  mother,  but  that 
will  now  be  different,  and  may  as  well  be  buried  with  other  errors. 
I  must  not  dwell  on  it,  or  the  task  of  forgiving  her  will  be  aggra 
vated." 

"  Then  let  us  forget  it  by  all  means.     lam  here  now  and  two 


268  DOLORES. 

can  always  accomplish  more  than  one.  We  must  not  think  of 
going  home  until  we  discover  Richard's  hiding  place." 

' '  But  you  forget  the  factory,  Charlie.  It  makes  me  shudder  to 
think  of  its  present  condition.  The  hands  have  not  been  paid  and 
the  supply  of  steel  is  nearly  or  entirely  exhausted." 

"Excuse  my  contradiction,  sir,  but  the  hands  have  been  paid." 

"Paid!" 

Mr.  Fox  was  not  merely  startled — he  was  puzzled.  He  evi 
dently  did  not  understand  the  other's  meaning.  Charles  could 
surely  not  make  sport  of  him  :  that  would  be  outrageous  under 
the  circumstances. 

"  Yes,  paid,"  Chiles  replied,  evidently  enjoying  Mr.  Fox's 
bewilderment.  Besides  that,  a  new  supply  of  steel  has  been 
procured  and  paid  for. 

Mr.  Fox  got  alarmed.  Could  it  be  barely  possible  that  the 
mind  of  his  young  friend  should  have  suffered  ?  He  looked  at 
him  with  a  glance  that  spoke  his  apprehension  ;  but  Charles  en 
joyed,  his  mystification  too  much  to  end  it  all  at  once  ;  so  he  con 
tinued  : 

"A  tide  of  good  luck  has  set  in  since  your  departure,  Mr. Fox. 
Will  you  have  the  kindness  to  examine  these  papers  ?" 

* '  A  receipt  in  full  from  Messrs.  Steel  &  Co.  Another  from 
Messrs.  Ironton  Bros.  Charlie,  what  does  that  mean?  Come, 
don*t  play  with  me  any  longer.  I  might  not  be  able  to  stand  it 
much  longer.  A  minute  ago  I  feared  for  your  reason — now  I 
begin  to  tremble  for  my  own." 

Mr.  Fox,  in  saying  this,  laid  his  hand  upon  his  forehead.  At 
the  same  time  he  looked  so  very  much  perplexed  that  Charles  saw 
the  necessity  of  immediate  explanation. 

**  Your  reason  is  all  right,  Mr.  Fox,  and  if  you  will  listen  to  me 
I  shall  tell  you  a  strange  story." 

"  Go  on  then,  Charlie,  the  .faster  the  better." 

The  young  man  told  his  story.  It  was  as  long  as  wonderful, 
and  more  than  once  Mr.  Fox  thought  that  the  solution  was  more 
puzzling  than  the  puzzle.  Still  he  listened  patiently  to  the  end ; 
but  when  Charles  at  last  had  done  he  yielded  to  the  flood  of  long 
pent-up  feelings.  Taking  both  the  hands  of  his  young  friend  he 
shook  them  heartily  and  said  : 


DOLORES.  269 

"Charles,  you  are  a  greater  jewel  than  any  your  ancestor  left 
you  in  his  will.  Without  you  what  would  I  be  to-day  ?  By  re 
ceiving  my  wife  into  your  house  you  saved  my  honor,  at  least,  be 
fore  the  world.  By  plundering  your  own  inheritance  you  sus 
tained  my  sinking  fortune.  What  I  am  to-day  is  your  work. 
Charles,  how  can  I  ever  pay  this  debt  of  gratitude?" 

The  bright  tears  ran  down  the  cheeks  of  Mr.  Fox.  It  is  embar 
rassing  to  see  a  man  weep,  and  Charles,  therefore,  cried. 

"Now  please  don't,  Mr.  Fox  ;  I  cannot  stand  it.  You  have 
borne  misfortune  like  a  hero  ;  don't  let  good  luck  unman  you  now." 

"You  are  right,  Charlie,  right  in  this  as  in  everything."  Mr. 
Fox  said,  with  a  smile,  drying  up  the  evidence  of  his  weakness, 
* '  But  now  come  at  once  and  let  me  write  you  an  acknowledgement 
of  my  indebtedness.  How  much  did  the  whole  sum  amount  to?" 

"Never  mind   the  sum.     My  father  and  Dolores  could  not 
think  of  receiving  the  gifts  of  fortune  without  bestowing  a 
of  the  blessing  on  the  American  branch  of  the  family.     Th 
you  to  consider  yourself  the  owner  of  the  sum  advanced." 

"No,  Charlie,  no,  that  will  never  do.     How  could  I  ever " 

Charles  stopped  him  rather  abruptly. 

"See  here,  sir,"  he  said  somewhat  sternly.  "I  just  now  took 
Uncle  Jacob  with  fifty  thousand  dollars  to  the  Sea-serpent.  Shall 
we  bestow  that  sum  upon  one  so  unworthy  and  be  deprived  of  the 
pleasure  of  bestowing  less  than  one-half  the  sum  upon  a  man 
whom  we  both  love  and  respect  ?" 

'  *  But  he  is  an  heir  by  right. ' ' 

"  You  are  an  heir  by  nature,  and  there  is  no  more  sacred  right 
than  that.  Now  please,  sir,  say  not  another  word,  unless  you 
mean  to  hurt  the  feelings  of  a  person  who  deserves  bettdtf  treat 
ment  at  your  hands." 

"I  give  in,  Charlie,  I  give  in,  my  boy ;  but  if  I  ever  forget  you 
this— 

"Now,  there,  again.  We  want  you  to  forget  this  and  many 
other  things.  But  there  goes  the  gong,  sir  ;  come  on  to  dinner. 
Talking  has  made  me  as  hungry  as  a  wolf." 


270  DOLORES. 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

A    MAN    HUNT. 

Charles,  young  as  he  was,  readily  saw  the  reason  why  Mr.  Fox 
had  thus  far  failed  to  find  any  trace  of  Richard.  He  had  merely 
made  underhand  inquiries ;  that  is  he  had  searched  a  pin  in  the 
river  while  standing  on  shore.  There  are  only  two  ways  of  finding 
the  frequenter  of  dens  of  vice.  One  of  them  is  to  pay  the  police 
for  lending  you  their  eyes  and  the  other,  and  far  the  surest,  is  to 
use  your  own.  So,  while  Charles  humored  his  friend  in  seconding 
his  efforts  he  kept  his  owrn  counsel,  and  at  night  when  Mr.  Fox  had 
retired  to  bed  started  on  expeditions  of  his  own.  He  had  read 
enough  about  large  cities  to  know  that  criminals  and  adventurers 
who  live  on  their  wits  and  devotees  of  low  and  obscene  pleasure 
seoli|  the  night  as  naturally  as  the  owls  of  the  forest  in  pursuit  of 
their  game.  He  knew,  moreover,  that  the  frequentation  of  their 
dens  are  even  more  dangerous  at  night  than  during  daylight ;  but 
that  could  not  deter  him  from  his  purpose.  Armed  with  a  small 
revolver,  which  could  easily  be  concealed  in  his  breast-pocket,  and 
with  a  cane  of  solid  material,  he  set  out  on  his  mission.  Night 
after  night  he  hunted  the  grog  shops,  the  dancing  houses,  and  the 
brothels  of  Boston,  but  evidently  to  no  avail.  A  week  passed  with 
out  bringing  the  least  clue  of  the  lost  son,  and  Mr.  Fox,  falling 
back  into  his  previous  despondency,  declared  any  further  efforts 
useless  and  reminded  Charles  of  the  necessity  of  returning  to  Fox- 
ville.  In  vain  the  young  man  demonstrated  the  propriety  of  pro 
longing  their  search.  Mr.  Fox  had  become  so  crabbed  in  conse 
quence  of  his  late  misfortunes  that  he  was  difficult  to  manage  and 
disinclined  to  humor  Charlie's  wishes. 

"Very  well,"  he  finally  answered,  "Til  give  you  one  more  day. 
If  we  fail  to  discover  any  trace  within  that  time  I  shall  give  him 
up  for  lost  and  return  to  Foxville  without  him.  A  father  cannot 
be  expected  to  make  himself  a  slave  for  the  sake  of  a  degenerate 
son." 

Charles  had  to  content  himself  with  this  reply ;  but  he  resolved 
to  make  the  most  of  this  respite  and  to  secure  the  assistance  of  a 
skilled  detective.  On  inquiry  he  learned  that  a  certain  Mr.  Sly 


DOLORES.  271 

possessed  the  reputation  of  being  foremost  in  that  profession.  Mr. 
Sly  might  be  found  at  headquarters,  if  not  not  engaged,  he  was- 
informed,  and,  going  there,  Charles  was  so  fortunate  as  to  find  his- 
man.  Mr.  Sly  took  him  to  his  office  and  inquired  about  his  wishes. 

Charles  drew  a  ten-dollar  note  from  his  pocket  and  handed  it  to 
the  detective. 

4  *  Please  accept  this  as  a  token  of  my  consideration.  If  you 
can  help  me  in  the  accomplishment  of  my  purpose  I  shall  give  you 
ten  times  that  sum." 

Mr.  Sly  replied  that  it  would  give  him  pleasure  to  assist  so  con 
siderate  a  gentleman,  and,  thanks  t®  the  bank  notes,  he  meant  what 
he  said. 

Charles  proceeded  to  state  the  nature  of  his  wishes.  He  alsa 
stated  that  he  had  scoured  all  the  dens  of  Boston  for  a  week  with 
out  even  the  shadow  of  success,  and  that  he  thought  he  could  use- 
the  remaining  day  to  no  better  purpose  than  to  renew  his  researches 
under  the  guidance  of  Mr.  Sly. 

The  detective  meditated  for  a  minute.     Then  he  asked  : 

"How  old  is  the  lad?" 

' '  About  seventeen." 

"His  name?" 

"  Richard  Fox." 

'•Formerly  employed  by  Steel  &  Co.  you  say?1' 

' '  Yes,  sir. 

' '  That  firm  could  give  no  clue  to  his  whereabouts  ?" 

"No,  sir,  they  hadn't  seen  him  for  six  months." 

"  Had  he  any  passions,  any  favorite  pastime  while  at  home?" 

Charles  started.     The  thought  had  never  struck  him. 

"Yes,  sir,  he  was  a  complete  jockey.  He  was  only  happy 
when  in  the  stables  or  on  horseback." 

"That  is  important,  sir.  I  know  a  livery  man  that  deals  with 
all  the  fops  and  dandies  of  the  city.  If  it  suits  your  pleasure,  sir, 
we  shall  go  to  see  him." 

Charles  answered  by  taking  his  hat. 

'•Mr.  Sly,  my  purse  is  at  your  service,"  he  said.  "Don't  hesi 
tate  to  take  a  cab  whenever  you  deem  it  desirable." 

' '  Yours  is  a  wise  policy,  sir.  By  using  the  horses  legs  instead 
of  yours  you'll  double  your  time.  Hoh  I  Jimmy !  this  way !" 


272  BOLORES. 

Jimmy  was  a  driver  and  obeyed  the  summons,  and  a  minute 
afterwards  the  new  friends  rolled  towards  the  livery  stable  in  ques 
tion.  It  was  not  far  from  headquarters  and  before  long  the  cab 
stopped. 

"Mr.  Dash,  allow  me  to  introduce  my  friend,  Mr.  Fuchs,  to 
you." 

"  Mr.  Fuchs,  glad  to  see  you.     What  can  I  do  for  you  ?" 

"  That's  easily  stated.  Mr.  Fuchs  is  in  quest  of  a  young  cousin 
who  always  had" a  passion  for  the  noble  steed.  You  keep  the  best 
horses  and  most  stylish  vehicles  in  the  city  of  Boston  and  it  is  nat 
ural  that  we  should  apply  to  you  for  information  before  going  to 
other  parties." 

' '  Very  flattering,  Mr.  Sly,  but  yet  correct.  Please  may  I  ask 
the  name  of  your  relation  ?" 

"Richard  Fox,  of  Maine." 

"Handsome  youth  of  seventeen,  slender  frame,  fair  hair,  mus 
tache  in  the  act  of  sprouting  ?" 

"The  very  man,"  Charles  eagerly  exclaimed.  "Can  you  give 
us  any  clue  to  his  whereabouts  ?" 

"  Sorry  to  say,  no.  Hasn't  been  here  these  three  weeks.  Out 
of  cash,  I  suppose  ;  couldn't  pay  for  the  last  horse  he  hired." 

"Ah!  that  is  too  bad!"  Charles  cried  with  much  disappoint 
ment.  "Mr.  Sly,  I  am  afraid  we'll  have  to  shift  our  stage  of 
action." 

"  Not  too  fast,  Mr.  Fuchs,  if  you  please.  Never  give  up  a  trail 
until  you  find  a  better  one  ;  that  is  our  first  rule,  sir.  Mr.  Dash> 
•don't  you  recollect  any  customer  of  yours  with  whom  Mr.  Fox 
used  to  be  intimate  ?" 

Mr.  Dfesh  hesitated  a  moment. 

"  See  here,  Sly,  I  don't  want  to  go  to  court  on  this  affair." 

"Court?  What  do  you  think,  sir?  I  know  better  than  that. 
Your  name  will  not  appear.  If  you  have  no  other  scruples,  you 
may  as  well  shell  out  your  news." 

1 '  Well,  on  that  condition  I  have  no  objection  to  let  you  know 
that  Mr.  Fox  was  very  intimate  with  Charles  Burlesque." 

"Burlesque?     You  mean  the  comedian?" 

"The  very  one." 

"Thank  you,  sir.     Now,  Mr.  Fuchs,  to  the  cab  if  you  please. 


DOLORES.  273 

Our  trail  is  gaining  in  distinctness.  Jimmy,  do  you  happen  to 
know  where  Burlesque,  the  actor,  lives  ?" 

"Funny  Charlie?  I  think  I  do.  Every  child  in  Boston  can 
tell  you." 

"Drive  to  the  house,  then,  but  fast.  Double  rations  for  you 
and  your  nag,  you  know." 

"Three  cheers  for  yer  honor!"  Jimmy  shouted  and  away  the 
cab  flew  with  commendable  speed. 

"  Here  we  are  !"  Jimmy  cried,  stopping  the  cab  and  opening  the 
door.  "Up  that  flight  of  stairs,  you  can't  miss  it." 

"All  right,  Jimmy." 

Sly  and  Charles  ascended  the  flight  of  stairs  and  soon  discov 
ered  a  sign  with  the  actor's  name  on  a  back  door. 

"Come" in!"  a  merry  voice  answered  the  knock  at  the  door. 
"  How  do  you  do,  gents?  Take  a  chair  and  excuse  me  for  failing 
to  rise.  I  am  lame  just  now." 

"Lame,  Mr.  Burlesque  ?  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it  and  so  will  the 
public  be.  I  don't  see  what  they'll  do  without  Mr.  Burlesque  to 
set  their  laughing  muscles  agoing." 

"Oh,  sir,  it  isn't  as  bad  as  that!"  the  actor  cried.  "You  see 
my  lameness  merely  affects  my  pocket.  I  am  out  of  boots,  out  of 
pants,  out  of  linen — in  short,  I  am  out  of  sorts." 

"  But  how  do  you  manage  to  play  ?" 

"  Oh,  my  wardrobe  is  good  enough  for  lamplight  yet.  In  that 
cravat  I  was  a  king  last  night.  But  these  Bostonians  are  so  con 
foundedly  particular  that  they  would  cry,  '  Stone  him !'  if  I  dared 
to  make  my  appearance  on  State  street  in  this  fashion." 

"But  when  do  you*  eat?"  Charles  inquired.  He  was  so 
amused  at  the  light-hearted  son  of  Thalia  that  for  a  moment  he 
forgot  his  object. 

"  At  night,  sir,  on  whatever  I  can  get,  and  that  is  deuced  little. 
Romance,  sir,  is  getting  scarcer  every  day  and  soon  the  happy  days 
will  be  a  reminiscence  of  the  past,  when  a  fellow  could  get  an  oys 
ter  supper  and  a  bottle  of  claret  without  paying  for  it." 

"You  are  painting  darkly,  sir.  I  should  like  you  to  look  at 
things  from  a  brighter  point  of  view.  Would  you  have  any  objec 
tion  to  a  small  loan  to  put  you  in  condition  to  appear  before  the 
public  in  becoming  decorum  ?" 

T8 


274  DOLORES. 

The  actor  raised  himself  upon  one  elbow. 

"Mr.  Sly,  just  have  the  kindness  to  touch  that  gentleman's 
shoulder.  Is  he  real  T ' 

*  *  Of  course  he  is ;  why  do  you  ask  ?" 

The  comedian  fell  back  upon  his  couch. 

"  That  is  an  enigma  worthy  of  solution,"  he  said,  as  if  in  solil 
oquy.  "A  real  live  person  that  offers  a  loan  to  an  actor  withoait 
being  asked  for  it." 

4 '  You  have  not  signified  your  pleasure,  sir,"  Charles  resumed. 
"Have  I  hurt  your  feelings?" 

"No,  sir,  but  you  have  puzzled  my  wit.  When  do  you  want 
the  monej  back,  sir?" 

"  Whenever  you  can  spare  it." 

"  That  may  be  never." 

"  It  suits  my  convenience." 

This  time  the  actor  jumped  to  the  floor. 

"Allow  me  to  shake  hands  with  you,  sir  ?"  he  said  with  a  feel 
ing  that  shone  through  all  his  mirth.  "I  now  for  the  first  time 
understand  the  story  of  Diogenes  and  the  lantern.  But  what  can 
I  do  for  you  gents?  I  imagine  you  haven't  called  for  nothing  on 
a  cripple." 

"  No,  sir,  we  have  an  object  in  view.  We  are  in  search  of  one 
of  your  friends." 

"  Speak  more  concisely,  man.  The  number  of  my  friends  is 
legion." 

"And  yet  you  suffer  want  ?"  Charles  interposed. 

' '  By  friends  I  mean,  of  course,  those  whom  I  befriend." 

"Ah!" 

' '  Now  you  understand ;  but  which  of  my  friends  do  you  want  ?" 

"A  young  man  by  the  name  of  Fox." 

"Ah !  Dick  Fox.  The  poor  fellow  is  crippled  like  myself  ;  the 
governor  has  ceased  to  send  remittances  and  he  keeps  his  sofa  like 
myself.  It's  only  at  nights  that  I  sometimes  see  the  lad." 

"  But  you  know  his  residence  ?" 

The  actor  started.     His  look  became  suspicious. 

' '  What  do  you  want  with  him  ?  Do  you  want  to  persecute  him 
n  account  of  debts  ?  Is  this  merely  a'bribe  to  betray  ^.m 


DOLORES.  275 

the  hands  of  justice  ?  If  that  is  so,  take  back  your  money.  I  am 
no  Judas." 

The  more  Charles  saw  of  the  actor  the  better  he  liked  him. 

"No,  sir,  be  easy  and  keep  your  money,"  he  said.  "I  have 
not  the  slightest  notion  to  harm  the  lad.  He  is  a  cousin  of  mine, 
and,  as  to  his  debts,  I  am  more  disposed  to  pay  than  to  resent 
them." 

''I  do  not  doubt  your  word,  because  I  have  seen  your  actions. 
Yes,  sir,  I  know  the  whereabouts  of  Dick  Fox.  He  lives  at  107 
street,  second  floor,  back  room." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  Charles  resumed,  writing  down  the  number 
and  the  street.  "You  have  done  me  a  greater  service  than  you 
think,  and  if  ever  you  need  the  assistance  of  a  friend— do  you  un 
derstand,  a  real  friend,  that  differs  from  the  legion  you  possess — 
you  call  on  me.  Here  is  my  name  and  residence." 

"  I  take  the  offer  as  you  give  it.  Have  you  any  objections  if  I 
call  on  you  before  you  leave  town  ?" 

"Not  the  slightest.  You'll  find  me  at  No.  19  -  -Hotel.  But 
you  must  excuse  me,  sir,  as  I  am  in  a  great  hurry  to  find  my 
cousin.  I  intend  to  leave  for  home  to-morrow." 

Another  hearty  shake  and  they  parted.  Charles  was  astonished 
to  find  so  much  principle  and  genuine  honor  in  so  gay  a  fellow,  but 
if  he  had  seen  a  little  more  about  the  world  he  would  have  found 
that  it  is  not  always  the  sedate,  portly  gentleman  with  standing 
collar,  white  necktie  and  a  gold-headed  cane  that  is  the  embodi 
ment  of  honor. 

The  street  and  number  were  given  to  Jimmy  and  once  more 
Jim's  Rosinante  made  the  wheels  fly  as  if  she  had  understood  the 
hint  about  the  double  rations.  On  the  way  the  two  delib 
erated  about  the  best  mode  of  securing  Richard's  voluntary  com 
pany. 

"Burlesque  spoke  about  debts,"  Mr.  Sly  suggested.  "How 
would  it  do  to  take  him  between  kind  persuasions  and  stern 
menaces  to  press  him  into  acquiescence  ?" 

"The  idea  is  good,  sir.  I  shall  introduce  you  in  your  official 
capacity,  and  ther.eby  awe  him  into  submission." 

The  cab  stopped  before  a  house  of  rather  shabby  appearance. 
A  dirty  flight  of  stairs  led  into  the  second  story  and  the  banister 


276  DOLORES. 

was  so  greasy  that  Charles  preferred  to  ascend  without  its  assist 
ance.  On  reaching  the  second  floor  the  two  examined  the  doors. 
There  were  no  signs  on  them  ;  but,  as  there  was  only  one  leading  to 
the  rear  of  the  house,  they  knocked  at  it  at  random.  This  time 
they  received  no  summons,  but  a  step  was  heard  approaching  the 
door.  A  key  was  turned  and  the  door  slightly  opened.  The  hall 
was  dark,  and,  as  the  visitors  could  not  be  recognized,  the  inmate 
opened  his  door  a  little  wider  to  let  the  light  from  within  fall  upon 
their  faces.  Then  Charles  recognized  his  relative,  and,  stepping 
forward  with  a  rapid  step,  he  exclaimed  : 

"  Kichard  Fox!    It  is  really  you  ?" 

On  hearing  his  name,  the  inmate  made  a  rapid  motion  to  shut 
the  door ;  but  Charles  had  anticipated  such  a  course  and  set  his 
foot  beyond  the  sill.  At  the  same  time  he  gave  the  door  a  vigor 
ous  push,  and  thereby  made  it  escape  the  other's  grasp. 

"Charles  Fuchs !"  he  cried,  with  a  mixture  of  surprise  and  in 
dignation.  "What  does  this  signify?  Who  gives  you  the  right 
of  thus  intruding  into  my  room  ?  Depart  at  once,  or  I  shall  be 
compelled  to  eject  you  forcibly." 

"Richard  Fox,  you  had  better  think  twice  before  you  act  so 
rashly.  I  intrude  my  presence  upon  you  in  the  sacred  right  of 
ambassador.  Your  father  sends  me  here,  sir." 

The  calm,  dignified  conduct  of  the  visitor  had  its  effect  upon 
the  youth. 

"Come  in.  then,  and  state  your  errand  ;  but  be  brief,  if  you 
please.  1  have  neither  the  time  nor  the  inclination  to  listen  to  a 
sermon." 

"  I  am  not  at  all  inclined  to  make  one.  Your  father's  message 
is  as  short  as  plain.  It  is  embodied  in  two  words,  "Come  home  /" 

"And  if  I  decline  to  follow  the  injunction  ?" 

"lam  authorized  to  use  force.  Here,  in  this  companion  of 
mine,  you  see  a  member  of  the  city  police." 

Richard  stepped  back  in  evident  surprise. 

"  We  have  learned  of  the  contraction  of  certain  debts  of  yours, 
Richard,  which  are  very  apt  to  lead  you  into  difficulties.  You 
have  only  the  choice  between  wandering  into  prison  or  your  father's 
arms. ' ' 

w,  you  have  ferreted  me  out?"  the  young  man  cried, 


DOLORES.  277 

with  flashing  eyes  and  clenched  fists.     "I  thank  you,  sir,  and  hope 
the  day  may  come  when  I  can  pay  you  back." 

"These  are  idle  threats,  Richard,"  Charles  replied,  with  a  calm 
deportment  that  gave  him  a  gread  advantage  over  his  excited  ad 
versary.  "Your  time,  you  say,  is  measured;  so  is  mine.  You  will 
oblige  me  by  stating,  without  delay,  whether  you  prefer  to  follow 
me  or  this  gentleman." 

Richard  saw  himself  driven  to  the  wall. 

"  How  will  my  father  receive  me  if  I  come  ?" 

'*  I  guarantee  you  a  lenient  reception.  To  grant  you  more  is 
beyond  my  power.  It  is  your  affair  to  win  back  your  father's 
love." 

"  Do  you  know  what  he  intends  to  do  with  me?" 

"  I  think  he  means  to  take  you  home  at  present;  but  this  is  not 
the  time  nor  place  to  negotiate.  I  want  your  final  answer." 

"I '11  go." 

"  Very  well,  sir.  Have  the  kindness  to  prepare  your  luggage 
for  removal." 

A  flush  of  shame  passed  over  Richard's  features. 

"  I  have  no  luggage,"  he  answered  sullenly. 

"No  other  clothing  ?" 

"No." 

"  Well,  then,  we  must  procure  some  on  the  way.  You  cannot 
appear  in  a  beggar's  garb  before  your  father.  Take  your  hat." 

By  this  time  the  authoritative  manner  of  Charlie  had  begun  to 
make  an  impression  upon  Richard,  and  he  obeyed  his  injunction 
without  reply.  When  he  was  ready  to  go  Charles  said  to  him  : 

"  Allow  me  to  insinuate  that  you  are  yet,  in  a  measure,  the  mas 
ter  of  your  actions.  You  can  make  an  attempt  at  flight  if  you 
choose  ;  but,  in  that  instance,  I  shall  withdraw  my  protecting  hand 
from  you  and  surrender  you  to  my  companion.  He  is  tolerably 
expert  in  catching  runaways,  and  in  case  of  capture  I  shouldn't  at 
all  Avonder  at  half  a  dozen  suits  of  swindling  finding  their  way  to 
the  newspapers.  I  have  nothing  more  to  say,  sir,  and  you  may 
now  suit  your  pleasure.  Let  us  go." 

Richard's  spirits  were  completely  broken.  It  is  doubtful  whether 
he  would  have  attempted  flight  even  on  discovering  that  Mr.  Sly 
was  merely  acting  as  a  scarecrow.  They  wrent  down  stairs  and  en- 


278  DOLORES. 

tered  the  cab.  Jimmy  had  to  drive  first  to  a  clothing  store,  then 
to  a  shoe  store,  then  to  a  hatter.  He  felt  proud  of  the  patronage 
he  was  permitted  to  exercise  that  day.  At  last  he  had  to  drive  to 
Charles'  hotel,  where  he  was  dismissed  with  the  promised  double 
rations.  Those  of  the  horse  he  received  in  cash,  and  it  is  to  be 
hoped,  for  the  sake  of  his  conscience,  that  he  didn't  cheat  his  four- 
legged  partner  out  of  his  dues. 

Mr.  Sly  took  his  departure  at  the  door.  Charles  had  managed 
to  slip  the  stipulated  sum  into  his  hands  unseen  by  Richard.  That 
young  man  became  more  and  more  crestfallen  as  the  moment  of 
meeting  his  deeply  injured  father  approached. 

Charles  took  him  first  to  his  room. 

''.Stay  here,  until  I  call  you"  he  said  to  him.  "I  want  to  pre 
pare  your  father  for  your  appearance." 

Going  out  he  locked  the  door,  leaving  Richard  as  a  prisoner. 
But  the  youth  did  not  care ;  he  was  more  afraid  no\v  of  the  unlock 
ing  than  the  locking  of  the  door.  Charles,  on  the  other  hand,  de 
scended  to  Mr.  Fox's  room,  and  finding  him  at  home,  entered  into 
his  presence.  There  was  something  in  his  mien  that  aroused  the 
other's  attention. 

"You  have  found  him,  have  you?"  he  exclaimed  with  an 
effort  at  calmness.  But  Charles  saw  how  his  lips  quivered  and  his 
hands  trembled. 

"Yes  Sir,"  he  answered,  deeming  it  best  to  avoid  all  evasions. 
"I  have  found  him  and  less  depraved  than  we  had  reason  to  fear." 

u  And  where — where  is  he?" 

"In  my  room,  sir;  but  in  order  to  overcome  his  reluctance  t» 
follow  me,  I  have  promised  that  he  should  find  in  you  a  lenient 
judge  and  father.  Are  you  prepared  to  vertify  that  promise?" 

"Yes,  Charlie,"  Mr.  Fox  said  softly.  "I  don't  pretend  to  be  any 
better  than  the  father  in  the  parable.  I  am  prepared  to  kill  the 
calf,  for  my  boy  that  has  been  given  back  to  me." 

Charles  left  without  speaking  another  word.  On  reaching  his 
room  he  beckoned  Richard : 

"Come!" 

The  way  to  the  room  of  Mr.  Fox  was  traversed  in  silence. 
Charks  opened  the  door  and  pushed  his  trembling  companion  ia- 


DOLOKES.  279 

Then  he  closed  the  door — it  was  not  meet  that  this  meeting  should 
be  profaned  by  the  eyes  of  a  third  party. 

That  evening  a  happy  trio  took  the  northern  train. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

A  TRESSPASS  ATONED — A  DEBT  CANCELED. 

Charles  had  telegraphed  from  Boston  and  Mr.  Fuchs  was  at  the 
depot  with  the  wagon.  He  was  surprised  at  the  sight  of  Richard, 
but  suppressing  every  sign  of  that  emotion  as  best  he  could,  he 
heartily  shook  hands  with  him  and  with  his  father.  After  put 
ting  on  the  baggage,  the  party  got  on  board  and  started  for  the 
village.  Mr.  Fuchs  had  to  answer  many  questions,  but  Charles 
thought  he  noticed  a  certain  something,  a  reserve  in  his  manner 
that  was  not  natural.  Mr.  Fuchs  had  reported  "all  right"  in  re 
sponse  to  questions  concerning  the  cottage  and  factory  and  if  any 
thing  else  was  wrong  it  could  not  be  very  serious.  On  reaching 
the  factory,  however,  he  thought  he  noticed  an  unusual  stir  about 
the  building.  A  crowd  was  standing  in  the  yard  and  as  they  came 
abreast  the  place  they  saw  the  office  standing  open  and  within  it  a 
plain  coffin  resting  on  two  chairs.  A  foreboding  seized  his  mind, 
and  grasping  his  father's  arm  he  said : 

"It  isn't — his  body? 

Mr.  Fuchs  nodded. 

"Yes,  Charles  it  is  his  body.  It  seems  providence  made  you  in 
strumental  in  drawing  the  sinner  to  an  early  account.  The  revolv 
er  which  you  gave  into  the  hands  of  old  Josiah  sent  the  fatal  bul 
let." 

Mr.  Fox  did  not  understand  these  allusions.  He  became  restive 
and  inquired  with  evident  curiosity 

' '  \V  horn  do  you  talk  about  ?  Somebody  was  killed  with  a  pistol 
shot,  it  seems,  who  is  it?  speak!" 

"Mr.  Fox  I  did  not  mean  to  push  this  matter  to  your  face  the 
very  moment  of  your  return ;  but  I  could  not  help  it.  All  the  ar- 


280  DOLORES. 

raDgements  for  the  burial  had  been  made,  when  I  received  Charlie's 
dispatch,  and  I  could  not  well  change  the  hour  without  giving  rise 
to  idle  speculations." 

"But  the  name,  sir,  the  name  !"  Mr.  Fox  exclaimed  impatient- 

iy- 

For  once  Mr.  Fuchs  forgot  the  humble  practice  of  his  early 
days.  He  remained  perfectly  quiet  and  turning  his  full  face  to  the 
inquirer,  said  : 

1  ( Can  you  not  guess  his  name  ?  The  corpse  of  the  man  that 
has  so  deeply  injured  you  in  heart  and  purse  lies  in  yon  coffin — 
his  soul  may  even  now  tremble  before  the  tribunal  of  retribution  ?" 

Now  Mr.  Fox  understood.  He  was  evidently  deeply  moved  and 
folding  his  hands  exclaimed  : 

'  'JWood !  her  cousin  !  is  it  possible  ?  ' ' 

A  nod  was  all  the  answer  he  received. 

"Does  my  wife  know?" 

"No,  sir,  we  thought  best  not  to  tell  her  at  so  critical  a  period." 

Again  a  silence.     After  a  while  Mr.  Fox  resumed  : 

' '  Please  tell  me  the  particulars.  It  will  ease  me  to  know  all 
about  it." 

"The  others  were  equally  anxious  and  listened  with  suspended 
breath  to  Mr.  Fuchs'  recital. 

"I  can  only  give  you  the  story  Josiah  told  me,"  he  said.  "The 
second  night  after  Charlie's  departure,  the  watchman  saw  somebody 
creeping  about  the  office.  It  was  near  midnight  and  dark,  and  on 
Josiah's  summons  the  noise  ceased.  But  the  watchman  had  been 
cautioned  by  Charlie  in  regard  to  the  office  and  the  mere  cessation 
of  the  noise  did  not  satisfy  him.  So  he  walked  up  to  the  spot 
where  he  had  noticed  the  suspicious  movements.  By  the  light  of 
his  lantern  he  was  enabled  to  see  the  form  of  a  human  being  crouch 
ing  in  the  corner  made  by  the  office  walls  and  the  fence.  The  man 
saw  no  chance  of  escape ;  except  by  running  past  the  watchman. 
He  rose  and  started  but  his  face  becoming  visible  Josiah  discovered 
that  it  was  the  superintendent. 

"Mr.  Wood!"  he  exclaimed. 

"That  exclamation  sealed  the  fate  of  the  intruder.  On  hear 
ing  his  name  he  stopped — at  least  Josiah  says  so — and  cursing  the 
person  who  dared  to  interefere  with  his  designs,  sprang  towards  the 


DOLORES.  281 

watchman  with  a  dagger  in  his  hand.  It  seems  to  have  aroused 
his  anger  to  see  himself  discovered  ;  else  it  is  hard  to  understand, 
why  he  stopped  his  flight.  Perhaps  he  also  wanted  to  satisfy  an 
old  grudge  against  the  watchman,  who  seems  to  have  been  a  thorn 
in  his  side?  preventing  him  from  moving  freely  in  his  nightly  opera 
tions — at  all  events,  if  the  statement  of  Josiah  is  correct,  the  super 
intendent  ran  towards  him  with  murderous  intentions  and  justified 
the  use  of  the  revolver,  as  an  act  of  self-defense.  Josiah  fired  but 
one  shot,  the  bullet  penetrating  the  forehead  and  killing  him  on  the- 
spot." 

"And  what — what  do  the  people  say  about  this?" 

Mr.  Fox  gasped  on  asking  this  question. 

"They  generally  share  the  opinion  of  the  coroner's  jury  which 
acquitted  Josiah  of  all  blame  and  passed  the  verdict  of  death  in  con 
sequence  of  unjustifiable  assault  upon  a  fellow-being.  The  knowl 
edge  of  the  late  conduct  of  the  dead  man  may  have  influenced 
public  opinion,  or  it  may  not — it  isn't  my  business  to  sit  in  judg 
ment  over  the  jury." 

Here  the  subject  was  dropped  and  the  rest  of  the  way  traversed 
in  silence.  Mr.  Fox  had  arrived  in  so  contented  a  mood  and  now 
this  tragedy  must  occur  and  cast  a  gloom  over  the  aspect  of  affairs. 
He  felt  sad  indeed  on  arriving  at  the  cottage ;  but  the  joyous  cry 
from  the  lips  of  Dolores  and  the  more  quiet  demonstrations  of  joy 
on  the  part  of  Lucy  had  the  effect  of  cheering  him  again.  He- 
wandered  from  the  arms  of  one  into  those  of  another  and  the  wel 
come  from  Mrs.  Fuchs  was  hardly  less  warm  than  that  of  the  girls. 
She  took  him  and  Richard  into  the  parlor  and  from  her  expectant 
look  it  was  evident  that  she  was  anxious  for  him  to  broach  a  cer 
tain  delicate  matter.  Mr.  Fox  understood  it  very  well ;  but  he  had 
to  undergo  a  last  violent  struggle,  before  he  could  force  himself  to- 
ask  the  question : 

"And  Mrs.  Fox,  how  is  she  to-day?  " 

A  pleasant  smile  and  a  grateful  look  on  the  part  of  Dolores  re 
warded  him  for  his  effort  and  Mrs.  Fuchs  also  seemed  to  be  grati 
fied,  for  it  was  in  her  happiest  tone  that  she  thanked  him  for  the- 
inquiry  and  stated  that  Mrs.  Fox  was  not  only  a  hundred  per  cent, 
better  than  on  the  day  of  his  departure ;  but  also  extremely  anxious 
to  see  him. 


282  DOLORES. 

"She  knows  then,  of  our  arrival?" 

"She  knows  that  you  are  here,  but  we  thought  best  to  say  noth 
ing  as  yet  about  Richards'  presence.  We  thought  too  much  emo 
tion  might  imperil  her  recovery," 

"Well  you  are  right  madam  and  thoughtful  as  ever.  I  shall 
manage  to  break  the  news  to  her  so  as  to  avoid  excitement.  In 
which  room  shall  I  find  her?  No,  Dol.,  not  you.  Mrs.  Fuchs 
will  have  the  kindness  to  point  out  the  way.  I'll  soon  be  back 
children. ' ' 

They  all  understood  that  he  wanted  no  witnesses  to  this  inter 
view.  Nor  did  Mrs.  Fuchs  presume  to  go  any  further  than  the 
door.  Stopping  there  and  laying  her  hand  upon  his  arm,  she  said 
in  a  low  voice  and  with  pleading  earnestness  ; 

"Spare  her,  Mr.  Fox!     She  is  weak  and  penitent." 

He  nodded. 

"Fear  nothing  madam.  I  shall  endeavor  to  secure  your  appro 
bation." 

Mrs.  Fuchs  smiled  and  then  stepped  back.  He,  on  the  other 
hand,  opened  the  door  and  entered  the  room.  Mrs.  Fox  was  sitting 
in  an  arm  chair,  and,  attracted  by  the  noise,  turned  her  head.  A 
deep  blush  spread  over  her  face  when  she  recognized  her  husband. 
She  tried  to  rise,  but  her  weakness  or  emotion,  or,  perhaps,  a  union 
of  both,  caused  a  failure  of  the  attempt.  She  sank  back  into  her 
seat  and  the  hand  that  had  grasped  the  arm  of  the  chair  to  sustain 
the  movement  now  held  on  to  it  to  hide  the  tremor  which  had 
seized  it. 

Mr.  Fox  had  seen  the  attempt  and  its  failure.  He  had  also 
seen  the  ravnges  which  the  recent  sickness  had  committed  on  her 
face.  Her  cheeks  had  sunk  away,  her  lips  lost  their  color,  and  the 
dark  hair  contrasted  strongly  with  the  thin,  pale  countenance.  Her 
eyes  looked  larger  than  before,  and  Mr.  Fox  thought  he  saw  a 
meek  resignation,  an  humble  prayer  for  forgiveness  in  them  which 
touched  him  deeply.  A  minute  before  he  had  thought  that,  in 
showing  kindness  and  compassion,  he  would  have  to  play  a  role  ; 
but  there  was  no  acting  in  his  motion,  when,  stepping  forward  and 
raising  his  hand  in  admonition,  he  cried  : 

"Don't,  Caroline,  you  are  too  weak  to  rise.  How  do  you  do 
to-day  ?  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  you  are  rapidly  recovering." 


DOLORES.  283 

In  saying  this  he  had  approached  her  and  extended  his  hand  in 
greeting.  But  she  shook  her  head,  and,  warding  off  his  hand,  she 
said  : 

"Edward,  you  are  very  kind;  but  I  cannot  consent  to  abuse 
your  kindness.  Are  you  aware  that — that  you  offer  your  hand  to 
one — to  one  that  broke  the  pledge  of  affection  and  fidelity  she 
swore  to  you  before  the  altar  ?" 

At  first  Mrs.  Fox  had  faltered  considerably  in  making  this  con 
fession  ;  but  towards  the  end  her  voice  had  become  at  once  lower 
and  firmer.  Her  head  was  bowed  upon  her  hand,  and  in  breath 
less  suspense  she  waited  for  his  answer.  At  last  it  came.  He  was 
still  standing,  and,  looking  down  with  a  mixture  of  grief  and  com 
passion,  he  replied  : 

"  Caroline,  I  am  aware  of  it." 

She  shook  her  head  with  a  mournful  sadness. 

' '  You  cannot  know  all,  Edward,  or  you  would  not  thus  kindly 
offer  me  your  hand.  I  have  sinned  and  have  to  bear  the  penalty. 
The  blackness  of  my  heart  must  be  laid  open  to  you  before  I  can 
appeal  to  you  to  decide  my  destiny." 

"Caroline,  that  is  a  useless  self-torture.  In  torturing  yourself 
you  also  torture  me.  I  assure  you  that  you  can  tell  me  nothing 
new.  I  know  your  whole  mistake  and  have  forgiven  it. ' ' 

"  I  thank  you,  Edward.  1  had  no  right  to  hope  for  this.  But 
your  forgiveness  merely  affects  the  past ;  you  are  also  the  arbiter 
of  my  future.  Dispose  of  me  according  to  your  pleasure,  and  I 
assure  you  that  I  shall  kiss  the  rod  that  strikes  me." 

Mr.  Fox  shook  his  head. 

"Caroline,  you  little  know  my  heart  if  you  deem  me  capable 
of  playing  the  part  of  the  stern  judge,  who  must  condemn  the 
deed  even  if  he  pardons  the  offense.  No,  Caroline,  our  relation 
before  the  eyes  of  the  world  must  continue  as  it  was  before.  We 
owe  it  to  ourselves,  to  our  children,  to  these  kind  friends  who  have 
exerted  themselves  day  and  night  to  guard  our  name  from  evil  re 
pute.  As  to  my  feelings,  Caroline,  I  solemnly  assure  you  that  I 
harbor  nothing  in  my  heart  that  bears  the  character  of  anger  or 
revenge.  I  have  fully  and  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  forgiven 
you  ;  more  you  cannot  ask  at  present.  If  I  told  you  differently 
you  would  not  credit  my  assertions  and  a  new  obstacle  would  rise 


284  DOLORES. 

between  us.  Men  cannot  change  their  feelings  in  a  day  ;  but,  Car 
oline,  if  what  they  say  is  true,  if  you  have  really  laid  off  the  char 
acter  of  former  days  and  assumed  that  spirit  of  gentleness  and 
meekness  which  adorns  a  woman  above  every  other  grace,  then, 
Caroline,  I  shall  with  gladness  welcome  you  back  to  my  arms  and 
heart  and  bless  the  day  which  turned  a  seeming  curse  into  a  bless 
ing.  Now,  let  me  ask  you  :  will  you,  on  these  conditions,  return 
to  me  and  accept  the  hand  you  did  refuse  before  ?" 

Copious  tears  streamed  over  her  cheeks ;  but  she  made  no  effort 
to  check  them,  and,  taking  his  hand,  replied.: 

"I  thank  you,  Edward.  You  grant  me  infinitely  more  than  I 
had  reason  to  expect.  But  you  will  see  that  you  have  not  be 
stowed  your  charity  upon  one  undeserving.  Henceforth  your  wel 
fare  shall  be  my  constant  prayer,  your  happiness  my  study.  Oh  ! 
why  was  I  condemned  to  wander  in  my  blindness  all  these  years  ? 
Why  did  I  with  my  perverseness  check  your  salutory  influence 
upon  our  boy  and  thus  become  instrumental  in  urging  him  upon 
the  road  of  vice?" 

She  hid  her  face  and  her  tears  threatened  to  assume  the  charac 
ter  of  hysterical  sobs.  Mr.  Fox  thought  that,  under  the  circum 
stances,  a  sudden  announcement  of  her  son's  return  might  do  no 
harm,  but  rather  act  as  a  strong  restorative  to  mental  health  and 
vigor.  So  he  said  : 

"Don't  cry,  Caroline.  In  this  instance,  as  in  others,  a  kind 
providence  has  averted  the  worst  consequences  of  your  errors. 
Richard  is  not  lost  to  you  ;  he  lives.  He  has  returned  with  me  and 
longs  for  your  permission  to  lay  down  into  your  hand  the  promise 
of  a  better  life." 

The  medicine  was  powerful,  but  in  this  instance  it  had  been 
properly  administered  and  served  as  a  check  for  the  sinking  spirit 
and  despondency  of  Mrs.  Fox.  On  her  husband's  announcement 
she  raised  her  head,  her  sobs  ceased  as  if  by  magic,  and,  extending 
her  hands,  she  cried  : 

"  Richard  !  my  son,  where  are  you  ?  Oh,  Edward  if  you  have 
any  compassion  upon  your  erring,  but  repenting  wife  go  bring  him 
here,  the  missing  one  ;  him  whom  I  had  given  up  for  doubly  lost." 

Mr.  Fox  left  the  room  and  a  minute  afterward  his  son  entered 
the  door. 


DOLOKES.  285 

"Richard!" 

"Mother!" 

The  two  lay  in  one  another's  arms  and  vheir  tears  mingled  in 
•one  copious  stream.  Mr.  Fox  had  not  returned;  perhaps  he 
thought  that  such  a  scene  would  be  profaned  by  even  a  father's 
presence.  Reader,  let  us  drop  the  curtain,  to  look  in  at  them  is 
not  meet  any  more  for  us  than  him.  The  relation  of  mother  and 
•child,  though  sullied  by  the  dross  of  sinful  passions,  is  always 
:sacred.  Let  us  respect  it. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

PLANNING    ALL    AROUND. 

Calmer  days  followed  this  stormy  season  ;  calm  within,  though 
rough  and  ungenial  without.  The  family  of  Mr.  Fox  had,  soon 
after  his  arrival,  returned  to  the  mansion,  and  the  undisguised  joy  of 
Susan  and  the  other  servants  had  brought  tears  to  the  eyes  of  their 
mistress.  For  the  first  time  in  all  her  married  life  she  seemed  to 
•comprehend  the  meaning  of  the  word  "home."  Mr.  Fox,  although 
prepared  for  a  change,  had  hardly  dared  to  hope  that  it  would  be 
so  radical ;  and  when  Mrs.  Fox  declared  that  she  was  not  well 
•enough  to  go  to  the  city,  but  delighted  at  the  thought  of  spending 
the  winter  in  their  snug,  comfortable  country  home  ;  when  he  saw 
her  devotion  to  Dolores  and  made  unceasing  efforts  to  make  the 
girl  forget  her  former  hostile  ,  coldness  ;  when  she  almost  forced 
Mrs.  Fuchs  to  frequent  intercourse  and  insisted  upon  the  rights 
and  privileges  of  relationship — when  all  these  strange  changes 
developed  themselves  before  his  eyes  he  felt  that  the  moment  of 
reinstating  her  into  her  former  privileges  had  already  come,  and 
that  if  he  delayed  a  confession  of  that  fact  he  merely  hesitated 
from  a  fear  of  seeing  these  fine  improvements  all  at  once  dissolve 
in  vapor. 

But  such  a  fear  was  without  the  least  foundation.  Mrs.  Fox 
was  the  first  to  call  her  husband's  attention  to  the  fact  that  Fox- 
ville  w^uld  hardly  furnish  the  means  of  finishing  such  an  educa 
tion  of  tfie  girls  as  was  demanded  by  their  station  in  life. 


286  DOLORES. 

. 

"You  do  not  like  the  city,"  she  continued,  "and  I,  too,  have 
lost  all  taste  for  it.  Would  it  not  be  proper,  then,  to  select  a  good 
boarding  school,  where  Lucy  and  Dolores  could  finish  their  educa 
tion  and  acquire  such  accomplishments  as  make  home  pleasant? 
They  both  have  fine  voices  and  Dolores  a  great  taste  for  drawing, 
and,  much  as  I  hate  the  thought  of  losing  their  cheering  influence 
at  home,  I  think  we  are  hardly  justifiable  in  allowing  motives  of 
selfishness  to  detain  us  from  giving  them  every  opportunity  to  im 
prove  their  talents." 

"I  do  not  like  boarding  schools,  Caroline,"  Mr.  Fox  replied, 
"but,  if  you  really  are  in  earnest  regarding  your  resolution,  of 
making  Foxville  your  permanent  home,  I  do  not  see  how  we  can 
avoid  them.  The  girls  certainly  need  further  opportunities,  and 
so  I  suppose  we  must  choose  the  smaller  of  two  evils.  Do  you 
know  of  any  good  school  in  the  neighborhood  where  they  might 
go  ?  Mind,  I  cannot  entertain  the  thought  of  sending  them  too 
far  away." 

"Nor  I,  Edward.  I  really  know  of  none  that  I  could  recom 
mend  at  present  ;  but  don't  you  think  that  Mr.  Goodman  could 
guide  us  in  our  selection  ?  He  is  largely  acquainted  in  the  State, 
and  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  could  furnish  the  desired  informa 
tion." 

"We  can  at  least  try  him,  but,  Caroline,  this  suggestion  of 
yours  has  called  another  matter  to  my  mind  that  needs  attention. 
The  question  is,  what  profession  is  our  Richard  to  choose  for  life  ? 
He  has  failed  in  mercantile  pursuits.  For  a  scholar  he  seems  but 
poorly  qualified.  What  course,  then,  had  we,  in  your  opinion,  best 
advise  him  to  adopt?" 

"  I  hardly  know,  Edward,  and  even  if  I  had  an  idea,  I  should 
hardly  venture  to  disclose  it.  My  influence  over  the  boy  has  been 
attended  with  such  pernicious  consequences,  Edward,  that  I  want 
you  to  decide  yourself." 

Mr.  Fox  smiled. 

"That's  what  I  call  a  very  cunning  way  of  shirking  responsi 
bilities  ;  but  you  put  the  load  upon  my  sholders  in  such  a  graceful 
manner  that  I  cannot  well  object.  I  have  indeed  been  thinking  of 
a  calling  that  could  not  fail  to  exercise  a  healthy  influence  upon  our 


DOLORES.  287 

boy  ;  but  I  have  been  hesitating  to  broach  it,  because  I  feared  your 
opposition. " 

She  shook  her  head  with  a  melancholy  smile. 

"I  see,  my  efforts  have  as  yet  been  unsuccessful  to  convince 
you  of  my  earnest  purposes  ;  nor  have  I  reason  to  complain  ;  ah  I 
it  is  hard  to  win  back  a  husband's  confidence,  when  once  forfeited." 

"No,  Caroline,  dear  Caroline,  do  not  say  that, 'for  it  is  not  the 
case.  Continue  your  present  course  and  you  will  fulfill  even  more 
than  you  promised." 

"  Thank  you,  Edward ;  your  words  do  make  me  happy.  But 
you  have  failed  to  mention  the  profession  you  -think  adapted  to  our 
Richard." 

"Well,  Caroline,  what  do  you  think  of  the  sea?" 

Mrs.  Fox  started,  her  cheeks  blanched  ;  she  folded  her  hands  on 
her  bosom  and  cast  a  supplicating  glance  at  her  husband.  That  was 
all  the  answer  he  received. 

"  There  !"  he  said  smiling.  "I  thought  as  much.  A  mother 
always  thinks  of  the  sea  with  a  shudder,  when  it  comes  to'  trusting 
her  son  to  the  mercy  of  the  treacherous  element." 

"No,  Edward,  indeed  I  do  not  object.  My  first  emotion  was 
one  of  fear,  it  is  true,  but  that  once  conquered,  I  am  far  from  dis 
approving  your  choice.  I  think  myself  that  the  rigid  discipline  on 
board  a  ship  would  have  a  salutary  effect  upon  the  fickle  character 
of  our  boy.  But  will  he  not  object?  " 

"If  you  agree  Coaroline,  I  shall  not  listen  to  his  objections. 
He  owes  us  a  reparation  for  his  past  offences  and  my  proposal  will 
give  him  a  good  opportunity  of  showing  the  earnestness  and  sinceri 
ty  of  his  professions.  There  he  comes,  I  may  as  well  broach  the 
subject  to  him  at  once.  Richard,  we  have  been  talking  about  you. 
We  think  it  time  for  you  to  choose  a  calling.  What  do  you  think 
of  a  mariner's  profession?" 

"I  think  I  should  like  it  well  enough.  I  have  failed  in  a 
course  of  my  own  and  resolved  to  be  this  time  guided  by  your  judg 
ment.  If  you  think  a  sailor's  life  calculated  to  improve  me,  I  have 
no  objection  to  adopting  it. ' ' 

''That's  spoken  like  a  man,  Richard.  I  do  indeed  consider  a 
sailor's  calling  adapted  to  your  nature.  But  in  what  branch  would 
you  like  to  serve  ?  Shall  I  procure  for  you  a  cadetship  at  Annepo- 


288  DOLORES. 

lis,  or  would  you  rather  devote  yourself  to  mercantile  pursuits, 
•and  after  serving  due  apprenticeship  enter  the  captaincy  of  a  mer 
chant  vessel?" 

"I  think  the  latter  course  more  desirable,  father.  A  stay  at 
Annapolis  might  be  fraught  with  new  temptations  and  shake  my 
good  resolutions.  They  have  hardly  rooted  deep  enough  to  stand 
much  shaking.  Moreover  I  do  not  think  that  I'll  ever  be  much  of 
a  scholar,  and  so  the  merchantman  will  be  the  place  for  me." 

"There  is  sense  in  what  you  say,  Richard,  and  I  shall  do  ac 
cording  to  your  wishes.  There  is  a  friend  of  mine,  a  captain  Tar- 
field,  ready  to  put  to  sea  in  a  new  vessel,  the  ''Swallow,"  and  I  think 
I  can  manage  to  secure  a  berth  for  you  on  board  of  it.  Your 
mother  can  meanwhile  superintend  your  outfit ;  for  if  we  fail  in  get 
ting  you  on  the  Swallow,  there  will  be  a  hundred  other  chances.  I 
shall  write  to  Tarfield  without  delay." 

Thus  measures  were  taken  at  the  mansion  to  send  the  younger 
generation  away  from  home,  to  prepare  them  for  a  later  struggle 
with  the  world.  Mr.  Fox  was  very  glad  that  his  wife  had  taken 
the  lead  in  regard  to  the  education  of  the  girls.  Since  Dolores' 
accession  to  a  rich  inheritance,  he  had  more  than  ever  felt  his  re 
sponsibility  and  the  necessity  of  giving  her  a  thorough  education. 
Mr.  Goodman  had  done  his  full  duty  ;  but  in  modern  languages, 
in  music  and  the  lighter  arts  which  at  once  adorn  and  enrich  our 
life,  he  was  unable  to  give  instructions.  Mr.  Fox  did  not  as  yet 
feel  justified  to  divulge  to  his  wife  the  new  circumstances  of  their 
•cousin  and  foster-daughter,  therefore  his  satisfaction  at  her  proposal. 

A  similar  process  of  fermentation  took  place  at  the  cottage  at 
the  same  time.  Charles  had  always  had  a  great  taste  for  the  arts 
and  sciences,  and  now  when  fortune  had  smiled  on  his  family  and 
put  sufficient  means  at  his  disposal  his  former  love  for  them  not 
only  revived  but  became  irresistable.  He  had  not  been  back  a 
month  when  he  announced  his  desire  to  visit  some  institution  of 
learning  and  under  able  instructors  go  through  a  regular  course  of 
study.  Of  course  he  found  no  resistance.  His  parents  were  so  ac 
customed  to  consider  the  wishes  of  the  high-minded,  intelligent 
youth  as  binding  that  they  would  not  even  have  dreamed  of  refus 
ing  their  sanction  to  so  commendable  a  resolution.  But,  while  the 
course  of  Charles  was  clearly  marked  out  and  rather  a  source  of 


DOLORES.  289 

pleasure  than  trouble,  the  future  of  the  younger  brother  often  filled 
the  parents'  hearts  with  apprehension.  He  showed  no  predilection 
for  either  mental  or  manual  labor  and  the  drudgery  of  mercantile 
pursuits  was  extremely  distasteful  to  this  fastidious  youth.  His 
parents  were  at  a  loss  how  to  proceed  with  him,  when  the  destina 
tion  of  Richard  at  once  threw  light  on  their  perplexity.  The 
ocean  !  Yes,  the  ocean  !  That  is  a  wide  berth  for  all  who  cannot 
prosper  on  the  land.  If  they  cannot  make  their  way  among  their 
fellow-beings  put  them  on  the  ocean  ;  there  they  are  out  of  the 
way.  This  sounds  like  irony  ;  but  what  else  is  irony  than  truth 
somewhat  sharply  drawn  ?  The  ocean  is  the  great  school  for  good- 
for-nothings,  where  no  temptation  entices  them  back  to  their  ways 
of  folly.  This  is  at  best  a  negative  preventative,  but  it  is  better 
than  none  at  all,  and  in  battling  with  winds  and  waves  many  a 
youth  has  regained  that  healthy  tone  of  mind  and  body  and  moral 
sensitiveness  which  grieving  parents  had  already  given  up  for  lost. 

Yes,  Henry  must  go  to  sea.  He  must,  if  possible,  become  a 
shipmate  of  Richard's.  They  will  find  a  mutual  consolation  in 
their  company  when,  on  the  first  rough  contact  with  the  elements* 
their  hearts  threaten  to  sink  within  them. 

A  feeble  monitor  warns  against  this  arrangement,  demonstrat 
ing  that  the  boys  will  not  only  be  a  support  to  one  another  in  their 
hours  of  trouble  but  afeo  a  peril  in  the  hour  of  temptation.  They 
are  not  always  on  the  sea.  The  port  is  nearing  with  all  its  low  en 
joyment  and  the  voice  of  conscience  which  might  have  been  listen 
ed  to  by  each  one  singly  may  become  drowned  by  the  noisy  en 
couragement  they  give  to  one  another. 

This  voice,  so  weak  and  feeble,  is  lost  sight  of  in  so  many  con 
siderations  of  greater  moment. 

The  boys  like  the  arrangement,  and  when  a  letter  from  captain 
Tarfield  announces  his  readiness  to  receive  both  of  them  in  the 
capacity  of  ordinary  members  of  his  cre^f  the  bitter  pill  of  humilia 
tion  is  very  much  sweetened  by  the  thought  that  they  can  weather 
the  roughness  of  the  trial  in  each  other's  company. 

Busy  scenes  are  now  the  order  of  the  day.  Trunks  are  bought 
and  packed,  two  of  them  with  the  infinite  number  of  items  con 
stituting  a  lady's  wardrobe  ;  two  others  with  the  rough  and  strong 

19 


290  DOLORES. 

materials  used  for  a  sailor's  suit  and  the  last  one  with  neat  but 
plain  garments  adapted  to  a  student's  character. 

The  scene  of  packing  is  followed  by  the  more  noisy  one  of  shak 
ing  hands  and  giving  kisses  and  shedding  tears  ?tid  indulging  in 
parting  salutations  in  general.  Then  a  sudden  stillness  follows,  fall 
ing  heavily  upon  the  bereaved  parents.  Foxville  seems  dead  to 
them,  the  streets  deserted.  Their  meals  taste  so  insipid,  and  the 
coffee  has  lost  its  flavor.  Only  jpy  degtees  they  reconcile  themselves 
to  their  solitary  lot,  and  then,  lacking  other  points  of  attraction  and 
entertainment  are  more  closely  drawn  towards  each  other.  How 
often  do  we  notice  a  doting  tenderness  in  old  married  people  to  one 
another  which  dates  from  the  time  when  the  nestling  made  the  first 
trial  of  its  wings  and  perching  on  another  tree  began  to  push  affairs 
on  his  or  her  own  account. 

Besides  missing  his  children  in  the  house  Mr.  Fox  felt  as  if  by 
losing  Charles  from  the  factory  he  had  lost  his  right  hand.  True, 
Mr.  Fuchs  assisted  him  with  all  his  strength  and  ability,  but  Mr. 
Fuchs  wasn't  Charles  and  could  not  replace  him.  The  matter 
would  have  been  worse  if  Charles  had  not,  in  the  queerest  manner, 
procured  a  substitute  just  a  few  days  before  leaving.  One  morning 
on  calling  at  the  post-office  he  received  a  very  odd  epistle,  which 
ran  as  follows : 

BOSTON,  November  25th,  1858. 

Charles  Fuchs,  Esq. — DEAR  SIB:  Since  meeting  you  the  other 
day  I  have'nt  had  a  moment  of  satisfaction.  It  is  no  wonder.  You 
are  the  first  man  I  ever  saw  and  when  a  fellow  haw  once  tasted  the 
substance  he  is  not  very  likely  to  be  contented,  again  with  the 
shadow.  I  am  not  satisfied.  I  am  tired  of  treading  the  boards  that 
are  said  to  represent  the  world,  but  in  reality  represent  nothing  but 
a  concentrated  embodiment  of  meanness,  trickiness  and  intrigues. 
Shall  I,  a  sensible  man,  make  a  fool  of  myself  to  make  fools  feel  as  if 
they  might  be  sensible?  No,  sir  ;  I  am  disgusted  with  the  glorious 
misery  of  the  stage,  and  wishing  the  legions  of  my  former  friends  to 
a  place  where  coal  is  at  a  premium,  I  have  a  constant  craving  to 
escape  to  the  person  that  promised  to  be  my  friend  in  truth.  Tell 
me,  honestly,  have  you  in  or  about  your  remote  retreat  a  place,  how 
ever  small,  a  situation,  however  humble,  where  a  Burlesque  would 
not  be  amiss  ?  Understand  me,  I  do  not  want  to  be  a  burden  nor  a 
drone.  I  want  to  work,  and  by  working  earn  an  honest  penny.  If 
you  have  such  an  opening,  and  feel  inclined  to  execute  what  you 
promised  in  words,  write  a  few  lines  and  you  will,  in  a  hurry,  see 
Yours,  CHARLES  BURLESQUE. 

Charles  laughed.  The  letter  amused  him,  and  also  flattered 
him.  The  best  of  us  are  prone  to  be  pleased  to  see  others  entertain 


DOLORES.  291 

a  good  opinion  of  us,  and  Charles  did  not  claim  to  be  better  than 
the  best.  He  mused  a  little  and  then  formed  a  resolution.  He 
liked  the  frankness  of  the  actor  and  was  inclined  to  go  on  first  im 
pressions.  He  did  not  know  the  man  at  all,  but  he  felt  assured 
that  whatever  his  other  failings  might  be  he  would  never  be  deceit 
ful.  Everything  else  might  be  tolerated  and  amended,  and  Charles 
began  to  wonder  whether  Mr.  Burlesque  would  not  answer  to  act  in 
a  measure  as  his  substitute.  The  actor  was  of  a  cheerful  disposi 
tion  and  might  exercise  a  healthful  influence  over  Mr.  Fox.  Tak 
ing  it  all  im  all  the  pros  outweighed  the  cons,  and  Charles  had  no 
sooner  come  to  this  conclusion  than  he  went  to  Mr.  Fox  to  gain  his 
opinion  and  consent.  Mr.  Fox  was  not  free  from  the  prejudice 
which  many  worthy  men  have  conceived  against  actors  and  a  dubi 
ous  shake  of  his  head  at  the  beginning  of  the  communication  por 
tended  little  good  for  our  young  friend's  intentions.  But  Charles 
was  not  easily  discouraged.  He  began  to  draw  the  actor's  portrait 
in  vivid  colors  and  after  finishing  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  his 
fatherly  friend  embrace  a  different  view. 

''The  fellow,  by  assisting  us  in  finding  the  track  of  Richard, 
has  put  us  under  obligations,"  he  said,  "and  what  you  tell  me  of 
his  character  has  rather  pleased  me.  Therefore,  if  you  have  set 
your  heart  on  making  the  experiment  I  may  as  well  accord  my 
sanction." 

So  Charles  sat  down  to  answer  the  letter,  and  on  the  return  mail 
Mr.  Burlesque  received  the  summons  to  pack  up  his  baggage  and 
start  for  Maine.  "Leave  the  cravats,  that  knew  you  in  the  role 
of  "princes,"  in  Boston  and,  if  possible,  even  the  recollection  of 
those  roles.  You  will  find  a  very  quiet  corner  here  and  if  you  can 
not  spend  a  month  without  seeing  a  strange  face  you  had  better 
stay  where  you  are." 

Mr.  Burlesque  thought  he  could  and  so  he  came.  He  was  kind 
ly  received  by  Charles  and  Mr.  Fox  and  introduced  into  the  fami 
lies  of  the  cottage  and  the  mansion.  After  he  had  recovered  from 
the  fatigue  of  his  journey  he  was  at  once  initiated  into  the  duties 
of  his  new  office  and  seemed  to  like  it  well  enough.  Only  one 
thing  created  his  dissatisfaction,  namely,  the-  early  departure  of 
his  new  friend. 

"  It  is  too  bad  !  "  he  said.     "  After  hunting  and  finding  at  last 


292  DOLORES. 

a  real  friend  I  must  experience  the  grief  of  parting  from  him. 
That  reminds  me  of  the  dying  king  whose  life  could  only  be  saved 
by  wearing  the  shirt  of  a  man  of  perfect  happiness.  The  messen 
gers,  after  scouring  the  whole  kingdom,  finally  found  but  one  hap 
py  man  and  he  possessed  no  shirt.  The  king  died,  and  so,  my 
friend,  will  my  contentment  die  on  your  departure." 

Charles  consoled  him  as  best  he  could,  promising  numerous  let 
ters,  and  when  the  day  of  departure  came  he  left  Mr.  Burlesque  in 
a  comfortable  state  of  mind.  Charles  went  by  way  of  Boston  and 
on  his  arrival  at  that  city  disposed  of  the  rest  of  his  diamonds  to 
Messrs.  Ruby  &  Brillant  and  of  his  doubloons  to  other  parties. 

The  money  thus  realized  he  invested  in  equal  shares  for  the 
benefit  of  his  father  and  Dolores,  with  the  assistance  of  a  reliable 
broker  to  whom  Mr.  Fox  had  given  him  a  letter  of  introduction. 
A  dozen  of  the  finest  jewels,  however,  he  retained  for  Dolores, 
leaving  them  with  Messrs.  Ruby  &  Brillant,  with  directions  to 
work  them  into  a  handsome  set  of  jewels.  This  business  attended 
to  he  continued  his  journey  to  the  university,  where  he  intended 
to  surrender  himself  to  an  earnest  course  of  study,  to  interrupt  him 
in  which  would  hardly  be  fair  for  the  reader  and  myself.  Take 
care  of  him,  oh  !  ye  muses. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

GLIMPSES  FROM  A  DIARY. 

*  *  *  At  school  !  We  can  hardly  realize  it,  and  while  I  look 
at  Lucy  she  looks  back  and  neither  of  us  is  any  wiser  for  the  look. 
Apropos,  Lucy  has  greatly  changed,  since — let  me  see — yes  ever 
since  her  mother's  sickness.  She,  formerly  so  gentle  and  so  loving, 
seems  to  grow  colder  every  day.  Is  it  only  to  me?  I  hardly  know. 
I  have  tried  my  best  to  thaw  the  ice  around  her  heart,  but  all  in 
vain.  She  denies  my  assertions  of  a  change  and  that  of  course 
ends  the  matter.  It  pains  me  though  ;  for  at  one  time,  when  every 
body  had  turned  against  me,  Lucy  alone  sided  with  her  good  father 
and  by  her  gentle  even  tenderness  cleared  up  many  a  gloomy  hour 


DOLORES.  293 

for  the  orphan  stranger.  Now,  while  the  others  love  me,  Lucy 
withdraws  her  affection,  and  why?  Why?  That  puzzles  me.  Can 
she  not  pardon  me  for  sharing  her  mother's  love  ?  Or  has  she  not 
even  by  this  time  learned  to  forget  her  mother's  error?  I  hardly 
know  to  which  of  these  reasons  I  should  ascribe  the  change — per. 
haps  they  operate  in  union.  But,  however  this  may  be,  I  have 
learned  a  lesson,  a  painful  one.  But  they  say  experience  has  to  be 
dearly  bought  and  I  cannot  expect  to  form  an  exception.  What  I 
have  learned  is  this :  A  gentle,  meek  disposition  is  not  always  the  evi 
dence  of  a  feeling  heart.  The  frigid  zone,  they  say,  is  still  and  cold 
and  for  earthquakes,  eruptions  of  volcanoes  and  sweeping  hurri 
canes  you  have  to  visit  the  tropics.  But  gentle  natures,  one  might 
think,  would  not  be  capable  of  intense  hatred  either.  I  hardly 
know.  It  seems  to  me  that  they  can  be  very  chilling  in  their  touch. 
A  low  temperature  can  more  readily  be  depressed  to  icy  coldness . 

than  one  that's  high 

*  *  *  %At  school.  We  have  been  here  a  week  and  I  begin 
to  learn  the  landmarks  that  enable  me  to  move  with  ease  and  assur 
ance  in  this  new  sphere  of  mine.  On  the  whole  I  like  it,  as  it 
promises  food  for  my  mind.  True,  Mr.  Goodman  did  not  let  me 
starve  at  home,  but  his  dishes  sometimes  were  just  a  shade  too 
heavy  for  me,  creating  as  it  were  a  mental  dyspepsia.  It  takes  a 
good  stomach  to  digest  his  Greek,  Latin  and  trigonometry  and  cal 
culus  and  I  am  glad  to  intersperse  my  meals  with  lighter  dishes.  I 
am  studying  French  now,  and  by  studying  I  mean  studying. 
Charles  is  going  to  learn  the  same  language  and  we  have  agreed 
upon  a  race.  I  should  like  so  much  to  beat  him  but  I  fear  I  can 
not  do  it.  He  has  a  powerful  mind.  I  see  that  more  distinctly 
every  day,  because  I  have  now  the  means  of  comparison.  I  am 
sorry  to  say  it,  but  it  is  true,  nevertheless,  there  is  much  littleness 
around  me,  littleness  of  mind  and  littleness  of.  soul.  I  cannot  say 
that  I  like  these  girls  very  much,  and  I  fear  that  I  shall  not 
make  many  friends.  I  read  so  much  about  schoolmate's  intima 
cies  and  ardent  friendships  dating  from  school  and  continuing 
through  life,  but  I  have  thus  far  seen  very  little  of  the  kind. 
Perhaps  it  is  my  own  fault ;  perhaps  I  lack  the  necessary  sympathy 
and  cannot  become  enthusiastic  over  the  subjects  which  interest  the 
others.  They  are  fond  of  dress  and  jewels.  I  do  not  care  about 


294  DOLORES. 

either.  They  fall  in  love  with  every  mustache.  T  find  nothing  in 
teresting  either  in  the  mustaches  or  their  owners.  They  move  in 
superlatives  and,  exhausting  their  vocabularies  on  commonplace 
affairs,  lack  language  to  enter  into  topics  of  a  higher  nature.  I  do 
not  understand  them,  or  rather  they  pretend  that  I  am  a  closed 
book  to  them.  I  think  they  do  dislike  me  and  a  would-be  friend 
and  gossip  informed  me  of  the  reason.  I  want  to  be  better  and 
wiser,  they  allege,  according  to  the  say  so  of  this  friend  and  such 
an  unpardonable  presumption  cannot  be  tolerated.  Alas  !  God 
knows  that  I  have  no  such  feelings.  I'll  try  to  be  a  little  more 
sociable  and  enter  into  the  sprit  of  their  conversation,  although  it 
will  be  up-hill  work,  I  know.  In  fact  I  have  been  spoiled  at  home. 
The  intercourse  with  Charles,  Mr.  Goodman  and  Miss  Sarah — yes, 
Miss  Sarah,  too,  and  all  the  other  friends — I  mean  the  intercourse 
with  them  has  spoiled  me.  They  are  real  men  and  women  and 
here  I  feel  as  if  they  were  acting,  all  of  them,  and  blaming  me  for 
giving  myself  as  nature  made  me.  Well,  it  is  unfortunate  that  I 
can  take  refuge  to  other  friends.  My  books  can  comfort  me  and  so 
can  the  grand  view  of  nature  from  my  window.  It  is  winter  now, 
but  even  in  death  nature  has  understood  how  to  maintain  its  gran 
deur.  How  must  this  beautiful  expanse  of  hill,  dale,  lake  and  for 
est  look  in  the  gay  colors  of  spring  and  the  burning  gorgeous  one 
of  summer  and  fall !  I  anticipate  much  pleasure  from  the  ever 

changing  character  of  this  landscape 

*  *  *  I  am  amused  at  my  French  professor  and  cannot 
help  laughing  at  his  odd  language  and  movements.  He  is  the  very 
picture  of  a  Frenchman,  at  least  as  I  imagine  from  the  numerous 
descriptions  I  have  read.  Monsieur  Parbleu  is  a  man  of  small 
stature  ;  his  dress,  his  gait,  his  bow,  his  "  tournure,"  as  he  calls  it, 
are  perfect,  and  he  always  appears  to  me  as  if,  on  coming  to  school, 
he  had  stepped  from  an  etui,  a  case,  as  it  were,  and,  on  leaving  us, 
could  do  nothing  else  but  return  to  it.  I  show  great  deference  to 
the  man,  because  I  feel  it,  and,  either  from  this  reason  or  because 
*I  study  my  lessons,  he  seems  to  have  formed  a  singular  regard  for 
me.  According  to  his  assertions,  I  must  surely  be  the  eighth  won 
der  of  the  world.  Monsieur  Parbleu  has  never  in  his  "aixpeeriaince 
found  such  ain  aibell  scholaire  as  Miss  Doloraise,  upon  honnaire, 
nevaire  flattairs."  I  take  good  care  not  to  tell  him  the  reason  of 


DOLORES.  295 

my  efforts  ;  it  does  a  person  good  to  be  considered  something,  be 
cause  it  urges  him  to  be  something.  My  other  teachers  are  also 
pleased  with  my  progress,  at  least  they  say  so,  and,  considering  my 
application,  I  am  inclined  to  believe  them.  My  instructor  in  music 
is  a  German,  a  good  man,  too,  I  am  inclined  to  believe,  but  the 
very  opposite  to  Monsieur  Parbleu.  He  isn't  at  all  tidy  in  his 
dress ;  all  geniuses  are  slovenly,  they  say,  and  Herr  Spreitzfinger 
is  on  all  sides  allowed  to  be  a  member  of  that  chosen  band.  He 
smokes  a  detestable  cigar,  not  in  my  presence,  to  be  sure,  but  the 
perfume  of  tobacco  adhering  to  his  clothes,  becomes  the  tell-tale  of 
his  besetting  weakness.  He  wears  a  loose  cravat  and  turned  col 
lars,  which  are  more  remarkable  for  size  than  cleanness.  His  long 
black  hair  hangs  in  disheveled  masses  round  his  head,  forming,  as 
I  hear,  another  striking  evidence  of  its  owner's  superior  organiza 
tion.  Mr.  Spreitzfinger's  coatsleeves  are  of  an  unaccountable  short 
ness,  the  arm  protruding  almost  to  the  elbow,  and,  however  favor 
able  that  may  be  to  the  free  manipulation  of  his  hands  and  fingers, 
it  neither  lends  him  grace  nor  elegance. 

In  short,  my  music  teacher  is  anything  but  a  counterpart  to  the 
fashionable  Monsieur  Parbleu,  and  the  girls  always  titter  when  he 
makes  his  appearance.  I,  however,  am  inclined  to  forgive  his 
shortcomings  for  the  sake  of  the  pleasure  I  derive  from  his  per 
formance  on  the  piano.  In  fact,  when  he  plays  I  don't  see  either 
collar  or  coatsleeves  ;  my  sight  becomes  a  secondary  matter  and 
the  ear  steps  into  the  first  place.  I  know  but  little  about  music, 
but  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  the  professor  really  is  something 
of  a  genius.  The  other  girls  don't  like  his  music  ;  they  always 
plague  him  about  polkas  and  schottisches  and  the  like,  and  Mr. 
Spreitzfinger  don't  like  it.  The  other  day  I  was  present  when  he 
replied  to  such  a  request : 

' '  Ladies,  you  petter  puy  a  krind-organ  ;  tat  plays  tances  petter 
tan  I  can  do  it." 

The  "  ladies  "  highly  resented  the  idea,  but  I  felt  gratified,  and 
ever  since  I  have  vouchsafed  the  professor  an  increased  amount  of 
respect.  A  real  artist  ought  to  elevate  the  public  to  his  level,  not 
lower  himself'  to  theirs.  He  plays  fantasies  of  the  classic  school 
for  me ;  sometimes  also  variations  of  his  own,  and  I  derive  a  vague 
kind  of  pleasure  from  hearing  them.  I  do  not  understand  that 


296  DOLORES. 

music  yet — why  should  I  deny  it  ? — but  I  hope  I  soon  shall.  The 
pleasure  it  gives  me  now  is  about  the  same  as  if  I  heard  an  orator 
in  a  language  of  which  I  merely  knew  the  rudiments.  I  know  the 
text,  but  cannot  follow  the  development  of  the  arguments.  Yet  I 
hear  the  speaker's  sonorous  voice  ;  I  see  the  graceful  sweep  of  his 
accompanying  gestures  ;  I  look  into  his  soul-lit  features  and  have  a 
mysterious  anticipation  of  the  sublimity  of  the  thoughts  he  is  pro 
nouncing. 

Mr.  Spreitzfinger  begins  to  notice  me.  I  am  now  through  the 
drudgery  of  the  A  B  C  of  music  and  he  sometimes  looks  at  me 
as  if  he  wanted  to  look  to  the  bottom  of  my  soul  and  see  what  is 
within  me.  This  morning  after  my  lesson  he  threw  back  his  long 
hair  with  a  jerk  ;  then  wringing  his  bony  fingers  to  make  them 
crack  in  a  dozen  places  he  said  : 

"  Miss  Tolores,  you  to  remarkaply  veil.  You  have  te  material 
for  a  real  artist.  If  you  go  on  as  you  have  commencet,  I  shall 
make  someting  out  of  you." 

"  Are  you  in  earnest,  sir?"  I  inquired.     "I  despise  flattery." 

"  You  to?"  he  asked,  casting  a  queer  look  at  me ;  "  te  oter  laties 
ton't.  Put  I  to  not  flatter  you,  Miss  Tolores.  I  sait  te  trut  and 
notink  put  te  trut." 

"Then,  sir,  I  shall  double  my  efforts.  I  dislike  nothing  more 
than  an  indifferent  thumping  on  the  instrument.  Rather  than  be 
an  indifferent  player  I  would  be  none  at  all." 

Then  the  professor  made  a  queer  remark. 

"  No,  no,  matam,  at  all  events,"  he  said  ;  "  you  have  a  soul,  te 
oters  haven't ;  what  can  tey  expect  to  learn  witout  a  soul  ?" 

His  tone  was  extremely  sarcastic,  but  to  me  he  shows  a  greater 
deference  than  ever.  Tliis  afternoon  I  met  him  in  the  hall  and  he 
drew  his  hat  and  greeted  me  with  a  respect  as  if  I  had  been  a  prin 
cess.  Some  of  the  girls  saw  it  and  teased  me  about  it.  One  of 
them  said  : 

"Look  out,  Dolores,  the  professor  is  going  to  fall  in  love  with 
you." 

I  really  think  they  envied  me  this  distinction,  for,  as  a  general 
thing,  the  professor  shoots  past  us  in  a  hurry,  at  best  vouchsafing 
us  a  condescending  nod.  So  every  trifle  becomes  a  source  of  envy 
and  jealousy,  and  I  do  really  begin  to  be  ashamed  of  my  sex 


DOLOKES.  297 

since  my  boarding  school  experience.  If  women  all  over  the 
world  betray  the  littleness  cropping  out  here  at  every  corner  it  is 
no  wonder  that  the  stronger  sex  shows  so  little  respect  for  our 
rights 

#  *  *  Mrs.  Strictly,  our  principal,  is  as  perfect  in  her  ways 
as  Monsieur  Parbleu  in  his.  She  always  reminds  me  of  the  figures 
exposed  in  the  show  windows  for  the  display  of  dress  ;  the  only  dif 
ference  is  that  Mrs.  Strictly  does  not  merely  display  a  faultless  toi 
let,  but  also  the  mental  and  moral  qualities  of  a  perfect  lady.  This 
would  be  all  well  enough  if  the  qualities  were  not  continually  on 
exhibition.  Mrs.  Strictly  is  a  living  manual  of  perfection.  She 
seems  to  say :  Look  at  me,  young  ladies  ;  notice  my  tournure  ;  this 
is  the  way  to  bow  and  this  is  the  way  to  smile,  and  this  is  the  way 
to  rise,  and  sit,  and  walk,  and  talk,  and  do  the  thousand  things 
that  make  a  lady  comme  il  faut.  When  on  our  walks  she  gives  a 
penny  to  a  beggar  her  motion  says :  This  is  the  way  to  do  it.  When 
she  admires  a  view  she  seems  to  say  :  Now  notice  my  expressions ! 
She  is  modest  for  imitation  and  pious,  too,  for  that  matter,  for  even 
in  church  she  seems  to  say  :  Look  this  way,  young  ladies,  and  ben 
efit  by  the  chance  of  seeing  a  modest  woman  kneel  and  worship. 

Mr.  Strictly  is  a  mere  cipher  in  the  establishment.  He  is  a  tall, 
portly  and  rather  handsome  man,  but  yet  he  is  nothing  but  a  cipher. 
He  represents  the  outside  dignity  of  the  school,  like  the  gaudy  sign 
above  a  dry  goods  store  or  the  carriages  behind  the  hearse.  Be 
sides  this  he  keeps  the  books  and  buys  the  victuals,  and  on  exam 
inations  and  exhibitions  builds  the  stage  and  shifts  the  scenes  and 
pulls  the  wires  and  prompts  the  performers.  I  must  laugh  when  I 
think  of  him.  Not  that  I  didn't  like  him  ;  I  do  like  him  well 
enough,  just  as  you  like  a  second  fiddle  that  adds  the  charm  of 
harmony  to  the  beauties  of  the  air.  Mrs.  Strictly  sings  the  airs, 
or,  if  you  prefer  it,  she  puts  them  on.  The  worthy  pair  reminds 
me  of  a  droll  story  that  Charles  told  me  once.  A  friend  of  his, 
examining  the  city  of  Liverpool,  noticed  a  cobbler  and  his  wife 
who  had  established  their  shop  on  the  sidewalk  of  the  street  and 
assisted  one  another  in  their  work,  he  by  mending,  she  by  recom 
mending.  Every  once  in  a  while  the  worthy  pair  would  rise  and, 
parting,  taking  separate  sides  of  the  street.  Then,  strutting  down 


298  DOLOKES. 

•street  with  a  dignified  composure,  they  would  proclaim  this  dia 
logue  : 

She.     "My  husband  mends  boots  and  shoes. 

He  (in  deep  basso).     "  I  am  the  man  to  do  it. 

She.     "My  husband,"  etc.,  etc.,  ad  infinitum. 

In  our  seminary  the  case  lies  just  reversed.  She  mends  the  ig 
norance  and  tattered  manners  of  the  pupils  and  he  proclaims  the 
fact  to  all  the  world  and  adjacent  counties.  Oh,  dear  me  !  if  she 
knewr  in  what  disrespectful  terms  I  speak  about  her  to  my  diary  ! 
But,  then,  a  person  must  have  one  confidential  friend.  The  other 
girls  gossip  among  themselves — I  gossip  to  my  diary— 

*  *  *  A  letter  from  Charlie!  That  is  always  a  feast,  a 
holiday.  He  writes  in  German  for  fear,  he  says,  that  I  will  forget 
that  language  over  my  French  unless  he  keeps  me  in  practice.  I 
forget  German  ?  Oh,  indeed  !  there  is  little  danger  of  that.  I 
like  French  well  enough  in  its  way  ;  you  can  express  yourself  so 
politely,  so  guardedly.  It  is  the  language  for  bon  mots  and  spark 
ling  wit,  but  with  German  it  can  stand  no  comparison.  To  it,  is 
what  the  graceful  birch  is  to  the  towering,  majestic  oak.  It  waves 
prettily  in  the  breath  of  the  wind,  and  its  bark  shines  with  a 
whitish  lustre  ;  but  give  me  the  oak  for  sublimity.  The  birds  find 
shelter  in  its  branches  and  the  weary  wanderer  in  its  shade.  Just 
as  deeply  as  the  oak  sends  its  roots  into  the  ground,  the  German 
language  sinks  within  our  hearts,  embracing  it,  creeping  through 
it,  and  pervading  it  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  any  effort  of  tearing 
it  out  extremely  idle.  No,  Charles,  I  shall  not  forget  my  German 
as  little  as  I  shall  forget  you.  Your  letters  do  me  good.  We  have 
here  the  climate  of  California,  long  and  uninterrupted  drouths, 
and  if  it  was  not  for  an  occasional  fertilizing  shower  from  you  or 
home  in  shape  of  a  letter  my  heart  would  dry  up  and  only  my 
brain  expand  at  its  expense.  Lucy  neither  loves  me  any  more, 
nor  allows  me  to  love  her.  Indeed  I  have  ceased  all  efforts  in  that 
direction ;  for  love  is  a  mutual  relation ;  is  like  the  working  of  two 
opposite  poles  in  magnetism.  Lucy  used  to  be  the  negative  and 
I  the  positive,  and  we  agreed  admirably.*  Xo\v  she  has  turned  pos 
itive  and  I  cannot  change.  Perhaps  by  growing  negative,  by  play 
ing  the  role  of  the  ivy  climbing  up  the  stronger  tree,  I  might  sue- 


DOLORES.  299 

ceed.  But  I  am  no  ivy  ;  I  do  not  like  to  creep  and  twist  and  wind. 
I  am  very  positive,  too  positive  I  sometimes  think— 

*  *  *  To-day  I  spoke  to  my  music  teacher  for  the  first  time 
in  German.  I  shall  never  forget  the  amazement  and  subsequent 
pleasure  he  showed  on  that  occasion.  It  was  in  consequence  of  an 
involuntary  outburst  of  delight  in  listening  to  one  of  Beethoven's 
sonatas  which  the  professor  played  for  me  that  the  exclamation, 
' '  Oli !  mein  Gott,  wie  schoen  ! ' '  escaped  me.  No  sooner  had  the 
words  been  uttered  than  I  laid  my  hands  upon  my  lips  as  if  to 
catch  back  the  treacherous  words.  But  it  was  too  late.  Mr. 
Spreitzfinger  broke  off  in  the  middle  of  the  chord,  and,  turning 
abruptly  on  his  stool,  gazed  at  me  in  undisguised  astonishment. 

' '  Sie  sprechen  deutseh  ?"  he  said  sharply ;  you  speak  Jerman 
and  titn't  tell  me?  Tat  vasn't  right,  Miss  Tolores,  inteet  it  vasn't. 
If  I  hat  known  tat  you  spoke  Jerman  I  shoult  have  taught  you 
in  my  native  tongue  ant  you  voult  have  learnet  even  faster  tan 
you  tit." 

After  that  he  wanted  to  know  where  I  had  learned  it  and  led 
me  to  speak  of  one  thing  and  another  until  I  had  given  him  a  tol 
erably  complete  picture  of  Foxville  and  my  friends  there.  I  don't 
know  why  I  did  it,  and  I  think  I  was  a  little  angry  with  myself 
for  doing  it,  but  somehow  it  went  so  natural  and  Mr.  Spreitzfinger 
appeared  so  much  more  to  his  advantage  in  his  native  tongue, 
which  he  speaks  with  a  good  accent,  that  one  word  brought  on  the 
other,  and  the  story  was  out  before  I  knew  it.  The  professor,  how 
ever,  made  returns  for  my  confidence,  giving  me  some  rough 
sketches  of  his  life.  Poor  man  !  the  uncouth  gestures  of  his  body, 
and  his  slovenly  habits,  have  prevented  him  from  making  a  mark 
in  life.  He  don't  know  it  himself  ;  but  it  is  nevertheless  true.  I 
see  it  fiom  his  sketches.  His  talents  were  overlooked  and  his 
shortcomings  noticed.  Oh,  ye  artists !  take  warning  from  poor  Mr. 
Spreitzfinger,  and  take  to  clean  collars  and  coatsleeves  which  pro 
tect  your  elbows.  My  teacher  is  an  artist.  1  know  enough  of  music 
to  see  that  now  ;  but  his  collars  and  imperfect  coatsleeves  have 
driven  him  from  concert  halls  into  the  seminary  of  a  little  country 
town.  Even  here  they  injure  him,  for  I  have  caught  several 
glances  of  Mrs.  Strictly  which  bode  him  little  good.  If  he  wasn't 
so  successful  a  teacher  he  would  -.have  been  dismissed  long  before 


300  DOLORES. 

this.     But  he  makes  very  small  pretensions  ;  that  is  another  reason 
for  our  principal  to  retain  him. 

*  *     *     Mr.  Spreitzfmger  says  1  begin  to  play  tolerably  well. 
He  praises  my  touch  and  expression.     No  wonder,  however  !     He 
makes  me  practice  three  hours  a  day,  and  if  that  is  not  calculated 
to  advance  one's  skill  I  do  not  know  what  will.     He  thinks  differ 
ently.     He  says  he  knew  people  wrho  practiced  four  hours  and 
could  never  succeed  in  playing  the  plainest  air.    Yesterday  he  said 
in  German  : 

"  Miss  Dolores,  you  have  such  a  silvery  laugh,  you  must  surely 
have  a  good  voice.  Will  you  have  the  kindness  to  sing  the  scale 
for  me  ?" 

I  saw  no  reason  to  refuse  him,  and  commenced  with  c,  he  sec 
onding  my  voice  with  the  corresponding  chords.  I  wasn't  destined, 
however,  to  reach  the  octave,  for  even  before  we  were  half  through 
he  jumped  from  his  stool  with  a  vehemence  that  frightened  me, 
and,  walking  through  the  room  with  his  biggest  strides,  exclaimed : 

"This  voice  !  oh  what  a  voice !  and  I  knew  nothing  about  it ! 
Six  months,  six  precious  months  gone  and  lost!  It  is  a  sin,  a  per 
fect  shame.  What  if  I  hadn't  by  chance  tumbled  over  this  pre 
cious  voice  !  It  might  have  remained  untrained,  lost  to  herself 
and  the  world  forever  !  But,  thank  God,  it  is  time  yet.  Miss  Do 
lores,  I  don't  ask  you  to  take  singing  lessons  ;  you  must,  you  abso 
lutely  must.'1 

His  excitement  was  so  ludicrous  that  I  could  not  help  laugh 
ing. 

"  You  may  laugh  as  much  as  you  please,"  he  said,  waving  his 
hand  and  speaking  German,  wrhich  language  has  now  become  the 
exclusive  medium  between  us.  "You  may  laugh,  on  condition 
that  you  let  me  have  my  way.  The  man  who  found  the  Kohinor 
and  he  that  ground  it  to  its  present  brilliancy  can  not  be  prouder 
of  their  success  than  I  shall  be  when  this  nightingale  of  Maine 
first  charms  the  ears  of  thousands." 

What  could  I  do  in  the  face  of  such  enthusiasm  ?  I  had  to 
yield,  and  now  I  practice  singing  as  well  as  playing — 

*  *     *     To-day  I  received  a  costly  present.     It  seems  that 
Charles  retained  some  diamonds  of  Uncle  Eberhardt's  and  caused 
them  to  be  set  in  Boston  in  a  very  tasty  manner.     Now  they  are 


DOLORES.  301 

lying  in  my  hand,  and  I  hardly  know  which  I  value  most,  the  gift 
or  the  kind  letter  that  accompanies  it.  "Dol,"  he  writes — indeed 
I  fear  the  world  is  spoiling  him,  for  he  begins  to  flatter — "  Dol,  I 
beg  you  to  accept  from  me  these  jewels.  They  are  a  fitting  em 
blem  of  your  purity.  The  gold  in  which  they  are  set  does  not  in 
crease  their  value  ;  but  it  is  necessary  to  show  them  to  advantage 
and  bring  to  light  the  brilliancy  of  their  lustre.  It  is  your  history 
over  again,  Dolores.  Mrs.  Strictly  is  the  artist  who  now  is  putting 
you  into  a  proper  setting.  She  cuts  and  grinds  and  polishes,  and 
when  she  is  done  she  will  boast  of  her  work  and  forget  that  only 
the  setting  is  hers  and  nothing  else,  and  that  the  beauty  and  spark 
ling  fire  of  the  precious  jewel  were  there  before  she  touched  it. 
With  every  other  girl  I  should  be  afraid  of  such  boarding-school 
work  ;  but  you  cannot  be  spoiled — I  know  that  of  old,  because  we 
tried  it  pretty  hard  at  home.  They  may  cut  here  and  add  there  ; 
to  make  a  flaw  is  entirely  impossible — new  beauties  must  necessarily 
spring  up  everywhere  under  their  touch." 

That's  the  way  he  writes,  and  I  am  going  to  give  him  a  good 
lecture  about  it  in  my  reply. 

But  what  shall  I  do  with  these  stones?  I  cannot  wear  them 
here ;  they  are  too  costly.  I  would  raise  such  a  mountain  of  envy 
amongst  the  girls-  that  an  avalanche  might  break  loose  and  suffo 
cate  me.  But,  without  joking,  I  do  not  want  to  appear  better  or 
more  highly  favored  than  Lucy.  It  is  enough  to  think  that  she 
treats  me  with  so  much  coldness.  I  shall  do  nothing  on  my  part 
to  widen  the  cleft  between  us. 

*  *  *  Vacation  is  over  and  we  are  back  in  our  school,  ready 
to  plunge  once  more  into  the  sea  of  learning.  Strange  !  I  was 
more  loath  to  leave  my  dear  old  home  this  time  than  the  first  time. 
On  the  first  occasion  I  didn't  know  any  better.  But  now  I  do  know. 
Only  now  I  fully  understand  the  powerful  charm  and  the  melan 
choly  sweetness  of  the  old  song,  "Home,  Sweet  Home  !  "  It  isn't 
the  air  that  captivates  me,  though  its  gentle  sadness  is  calculated 
to  bring  home  the  sentiments  of  the  words  with  double  force.  I  do 
not  know  why  this  air  always  pursues  me  waking  and  dreaming.  I 
cannot  account  for  it  on  the  great  appreciation  of  my  home  alone. 
A  secret  inward  power  drives  it  to  my  lips,  a  voice  from  the  spirit- 


302  DOLORES. 

land,  an  echo  from  the  past.     Where  does  it  come  from,  why  does 
it  strike  me  so  powerfully  ? — 

*  *     *     There  is  one  more  reason  why  I  hated  to  leave  Fox- 
ville  worse  than  the  first  time.     Charles  was  to  be  home,  too,  on 
vacation ;  but,  unfortunately,  our  terms  did  not  coincide,  and  all 
we  could  exact  from  him  was  a  promise  to  do  his  best  to  meet  us. 
I  suppose  he  did  his  best,  but  we  did  not  see  him.     We  lingered 
day  after  day  until  Lucy  refused  to  prolong  our  stay.     Our  school 
would  open,  she  said,  and  she  would  not  like  to  lose  any  recita. 
tions.     Her  parents  praised  her  resolution  and   I? — of  course  I 
couldn't  betray  my  reluctance  and  its  cause.     Lucy  knew  it ;  that 
I  instinctively  perceived.     But  no,  it  was  the  love  of  study,  her 
sense  of  order  and  of  duty  which  gave  birth  to  her  desire  for  a  re 
turn  to  school.     I  have  really  to  conquer  a  disposition  of  feeling  a 
bitterness  against  the  girl.     She  begins  to  make  the  same  impres 
sion  upon  me  with  her  even  coldness,  as  a  trog  or  other  amphibi 
ous  creature  would  in  consequence  of  their  cold,  slippery  skin.     If 
I  am  wrong,  if  I  wrong  her,  I  cannot  help  it.     I  do  my  best  to 
force  myself  to  friendly  feelings  towards  my  parents'  daughter,  but 
I  must  now  repeat  what  I  said  once  before,  "  Love  cannot  be  forced 
and,  like  the  plant  in  subterranean  vaults,  creep  to  the  warm  and 
genial  light 

*  *     *     I  have  committed  another  offence  against  my  school 
mates  in  venturing  to  compete  for  and  win  the  first  prize  at  the 
examination  preceding  the  close  of  school.     This  is  an  old  affair 
now,   but,   on  looking  over  my  diary,  I  find  that  I  neglected  to 
record  it.     Not  that  I  place  a  very  great  value  on  the  occurrence  ; 
but  it  would  be  just  as  foolish  to  leave  it  off  these  pages  on  ac 
count  of  a  false  shame  as  to  proclaim  it  with  a  vain  pride  to  the 
four  points  of  the  compass.     I  chronicle  events  on   these  leaves 
such  as  they  are,  not  as  they  ought  to  be,  and  if  the  statement  of 
any  triumphs  is  calculated  to  give  offence  I  have  the  comfort  of 
feeling  sure  that  no  eyes  but  mine  will  ever  see  it. 

*  *     *     «  What  do  you  think  of  Mr.  Burlesque,  and  how  do 
you  like  him  ? "  was  a  question  in  a  letter  from  Charlie  that  lies 
before  me.    What  do  I  think  of  him  ?     Well,  he  is  a  clever  fellow 
with  a  gay  disposition  ;  rather  too  gay  for  me,  though.     I  like 
originality  but  I  do  not  like  farces.     Overdrawn  characters  become 


DOLOKES.  303 

caricatures  and  those  I  could  never  admire.  Moreover,  Mr.  Bur 
lesque  has  driven  his  vehicle  of  life  through  "  thick  and  thin,"  as 
they  say  in  German,  and  in  consequence  the  mire  has  been  spat 
tered  all  over  him.  I  feel  he  is  not  so  pure  as  I  should  like  a 
friend  to  be.  To  me  he  has  never  over-stepped  the  bounds  of  de 
corum,  but  I  thought  he  came  as  close  to  the  margin  as  was  possi 
ble.  May  be  the  simple  life  in  Foxville  will  improve  him  ;  indeed 
I  hope  it  will,  for  though  my  judgment  can  not  exactly  bestow  the 
character  of  perfect  on  the  man  my  sympathy  is  with  him.  I  like 
him  well  enough.  I  like  his  constant  efforts  to  cheer  and  help  niy 
dear  papa.  I  like  his  struggle  to  forget  the  gay  pleasures  of  city 
life  and  learn  the  proper  appreciation  of  the  charms'  of  the  country. 
But  most  of  all  I  like  the  enthusiastic  love  with  which  he  speaks  of 
Charlie.  He  never  tires  of  that  topic  and  somehow  I  never  tire  to 
listen.  So  it  happened  that  we  had  many  and  long  chats  together. 
He  says  that  Charlie  is  the  only  man  he  ever  saw  and  I  subscribe 
to  it.  Dear  me  !  when  I  compare  him  with  the  striplings  on  whom 
our  girls  here  dote  and  about  whom  they  rave  the  difference  appears 
so  great  that  I  lack  a  measure  to  define  it.  Mr.  Burlesque  saw  him 
but  once  and  that  sufficed  to  -bind  him  heart  and  soul.  Now,  if  he 
loves  him  so  much  from  one  short  interview  what  can  those  do  that 
shared  his  leisure  and  his  work,  his  joys,  his  sorrows  and  his  aspira- 
ti©ns?  Yesterday  I  took  Webster's  dictionary  to  look  for  the 
definition  of  the  word  "idol."  It  means  an  image  to  be  worshiped 
as  a  God.  Now,  the  bible  calls  the  worshipers  of  idols  heathen. 
I  fear  I  am  a  heathen 

*  *     *     To-day  when  I  came  to  my  room  I  thought  L-ucy 
looked  rather  nervous,  contrary  to  her  loabits.     She  soon  invented 
a  pretence  to  leave  me,  and  when  I  took  out  my  diary  I  thought  I 
noticed  a  confusion  in  the  writing  desk  that  is  not  usual.     Should 
she  have  had  the  meanness  to  pry  into  those  papers  ?     The  box 
was  locked,  but  these  common  locks  are  easily  forced.     It  would 
be  too  bad  indeed  !     But,  no,  I  shall  not  think  of  it.     I  shall  not 
condemn  her  on  such  slight  suspicion.     But  I  shall  be  more  cau 
tious  hereafter  and  put  the  diary  in  a  place  where  prying  eyes  and 
skillful  fingers  will  try  in  vain  to  penetrate  to  it 

*  *     *     Xwo   years  are   gone,  and  after  the   expiration  of 
another  I  shall  be  through  with  my  course  of  studies.     It  makes 


304  DOLORES. 

me  glad  and  sorry  at  the  same  time  to  think  of  it.  Sorry  because 
the  calm,  happy  days  of  school  life  will  then  be  over,  never  to 
return.  Happy,  because  then  I  shall  be  able  to  enjoy  the  company 
of  my  friends  at  home  without  the  fear  of  early  parting.  What 
does  a  short  vacation  amount  to  ?  Every  day  is  spoiled  and  embit 
tered  by  the  thought  that  one  is  drawing  near  which  will  surely 
snatch  us  from  our  home.  Charles  expects  to  be  through  about  the 
same  time  and  if  I  am  to  trust  his  letters  he  is  about  as  anxious  and 
impatient  to  meet  me  as  I  am  to  meet  him.  Is  it  not  strange  that 
two  long  years  have  passed  without  bringing  us  face  to  face  ?  Dur 
ing  my  two  vacations  he  could  not  leave  the  college  and  when  his 
vacation  came  around  and  he  made  a  trip  up  this  way  to  take  me 
by  surprise  I  was  absent  on  an  excursion  to  the  mountains  with  a 
pleasure  party  from  our  seminary.  We  were  absent  a  whole  week, 
and  I  enjoyed  myself  well  enough,  but  when  I  got  home  and  found 
a  note,  and  nothing  but  a  note,  in  which  he  expressed  his  sorrow 
on  account  of  missing  me  I  felt  as  if  1  could  have  despaired  and 
sat  down  to  a  good  crying  spell,  such  as  I  have  not  had  for  years. 
Now  I  shall  have  to  wait  another  year  before  I  can  expect  to  see 
him.  Dear  me  !  how  many  things  we  shall  then  have  to  say  to  one 
another.  How  many  stories  we  shall  have  to  tell ;  how  many  ques 
tions  to  ask  and  reply  to  ;  how  many  puzzles  and  problems  of  life 
and  death  to  propose  and  solve  ;  how  many  imaginary  journeys  to 
make  to  subterranean  caves  and  deepest  bowels  of  the  earth  ;  to 
mountain  peaks  and  to  the  airy  realms  above  ;  even  up  to  the  moon 
and  planets  and  light  dispersing  sun.  Indeed  I  do  not  see  how  we 
shall  ever  get  through,  unless  the  hours  of  night  shrink  to  minimum 
and  the  days  expand  to  their  double  length.  This,  I  am  afraid, 
will  never  happen.  On  the  contrary  the  hours  spent  in  his  compa 
ny  will  share  the  common  fate  of  happy  hours,  their  transient- 
ness 

*  *  *  My  diary  is  much  neglected  now.  The  session  draws 
towards  its  close,  and  I  mean  to  compete  for  the  first  honor.  I 
know  Charlie  does  and  it  gives  me  sweet  satisfaction  to  share  his 
risk,  but  it  will  be  sweeter  yet  to  share  his  triumph.  My  triumph, 
however,  will  not  be  very  great.  Three  years  is  a  long  race,  and 
most  of  our  students  are  out  of  breath  by  this  time.  There  are  a 
few  of  a  more  tenacious  purpose  than  the  crowd  wko  seem  inclined 


DOLORES.  305 

to  dispute  my  victory.  However,  there  are  some  new  students, 
clever  girls,  who  scorn  to  yield  the  palm  without  an  effort.  So  the 
contest  is  not  without  a  certain  interest,  and  though  I  am  far  from 
feeling  the  feverish  excitement  of  the  first  year  yet  I  feel  the  neces 
sity  of  close  application  to  make  success  secure.  Farewell,  then, 
thou  friend  of  my  lonely  hours ;  only  at  rare  intervals  will  my 
diary  be  enabled  to  visit  thee.  Farewell ! 

*  *  *  A  letter  from  Charlie !  Such  extraordinary  events 
form  an  exception  from  the  general  rule.  I  must  spare  the  time  to 
chronicle  it  in  the  pages  of  my  diary  ;  especially  since  it  is  very 
likely  the  last  letter  I'll  get  from  him.  One  more  week  and  I'll 
have  ceased  to  be  the  happy  schoolgirl  to  enter  into  a  state  not  less 
laborious  and  even  more  responsible.  One  more  week  to  prepare 
for  the  contest !  I  ought  to  concentrate  my  thoughts  upon  my 
studies,  but  I  cannot  do  it.  However  much  I  struggle  to  retain 
them  here  they  constantly  fly  to  my  native  home  and  to  the  dear, 
dear  faces  I  shall  there  meet  again.  There  is  a  picture  of  Charlie 
in  the  letter,  a  splendid  photograph.  He  wears  a  moustache  now 
and  handsome  whiskers,  and  I  was  so  much  engaged  in  looking  at 
the  picture  that  I  didn't  notice  how  one  of  the  girls  came  up  behind 
and  gazing  over  my  shoulder  saw  the  picture.  I  started  like  a 
thief  detected  in  the  act  of  stealing,  when  she  clapped  her  hands 
and  with  a  merry  laugh  exclaimed  : 

' '  A  man  !  a  man  !  Our  Lady  Perfect  has  the  picture  of  a  man  ! 
He  is  handsome,  though,  and  I'll  keep  mum  if  you  will  tell  me 
who  he  is  and  whether  you  love  him  very  much  ?  " 

I  felt  a  burning  of  indignation  in  my  face  ;  I  think  it  was  at 
her  indiscretion.  Without  deigning  to  answer  a  word  to  her  ques 
tions  I  turned  abruptly  and  sought  my  chamber.  There,  however, 
her  question  haunts  me  all  the  time.  Do  I  love  him  ?  No,  I  love 
him  not.  If  Webster  is  correct  I  worship  him  and  worship  is  no 
love.  Worship  you  can,  but  idols  !  I  worship  the  idol  of  my  soul 
and  that  is  idolatry 

^  *  *  Triumph  !  Triumph  !  The  palm  is  mine  !  The  vie- 
tory  is  won.  It  was  not  easily  won,  however,  and  I  value  the  prize 
in  proportion.  And  he  ?  Oh  !  I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  that 
he,  too,  conquered  all  the  rest.  It  was  the  thought  of  him  that 
gave  me  strength,  and  can  I  doubt  that  he,  too,  thought  of  me? 

20 


306  DOLORES. 

Doubt !  That  fearful  word  now  for  the  first  time  rises  in  my  mind. 
If  he  had  not  learned  to  think  of  me  as  I  of  him  what  would  the 
future  be  ?  A  blank  ;  for  I  love  him,  love  him  dearly  ;  worship 
him.  Why  should  I  hide  it  from  myself  ?  Alas  !  I  couldn't ;  for 
this  feeling  has  become  so  interwoven  with  my  nature  that  to  ignore 
it  would  be  not  to  exist.  They  write  so  much  of  love  sleeping  in  our 
hearts  and  bursting  into  consciousness  with  a  sudden  start.  Well, 
perhaps  they  are  right.  I  never  knew  how  much  I  loved  him  un 
til  on  my  return  from  the  mountains,  when  I  learned  that  he  had 
been  here  to  see  me.  In  the  copious  tears  then  flowing  from  my 
eyes  love  took  root  and  grew  until  it  filled  my  heart  and  all  the 
world.  After  that,  beauty  received  its  merits  merely  from  gracing 
him.  Intelligence,  from  shining  through  his  eyes.  Virtue  became 
of  value,  since  he  cherished  its  precepts,  and  vice  shunned  because 
he  shuns  it 

Doubt !  Horrid  word  !  How  could  I  ever  bear  to  live  without 
a  kindred  feeling  in  his  bosom  ? 

*  *  *  A  change  has  come  over  me.  I  now  understand 
superlatives  and,  what  is  more,  I  use  them.  To-morrow  we  shall 
go  home.  I  am  the  happiest  creature  on  the  globe.  Time  creeps 
most  terribly  slow  for  me  and  I  should  be  infinitely  obliged  to 
Morpheus,  God  of  Dreams,  if  he  could  plunge  me  into  oblivion 
until  the  moment  of  departure  has  arrived. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


HOME    AGAIN. 

Those  were  stiring,  excited  times  in  the  two  families  of  Fox- 
ville,  when  the  girls  came  home.  Theirs  was  not  the  only  arrival 
for  on  the  preceding  day  Richard  and  Henery  had  suddenly  re 
turned  from  Portsmouth,  where  their  vessel  was  to  undergo 
thorough  repairs.  They  had  leave  of  absence  for  the  whole  winter 
and  were  received  with  a  doubly  hearty  welcome,  as  they  bore  let 
ters  from  Captain  Tarfield  which  gave  them  a  pretty  good  character. 
True,  neither  of  them  had  advanced  much  in  his  profession  as  they 


DOLOKES.  307 

had  not  succeeded  in  rising  above  the  rank  of  common  sailors,  but 
that  was  only  of  secondary  importance.  If  their  new  life  had  only 
improved  their  morals  and  made  them  firmer  in  principle,  the  rest 
could  easily  be  borne.  A  few  more  voyages  would  surely  perfect 
them  in  the  art  of  navigation,  and  once  fit  to  command  a  vessel,  the 
means  of  Mr.  Fox  would  without  much  trouble  secure  Richard  a 
captaincy  with  Henry  for  hi*  lieutenant. 

Charles  was  now  the  only  one  wanting,  to  make  the  family  cir 
cle  complete.  His  session  closed  a  little  later  and  they  could  hardly 
expect  him  before  another  week.  But,  though  this  circumstance 
somewhat  damped  the  spirits  of  Dolores,  the  young  men  were  gay 
and  lively,  and  made  the  mansion  and  the  cottage  ring  with  their 
laughter  and  their  stories.  They  had  been  in  most  of  the  countries 
of  Europe  and  of  course  could  relate  many  things  that  were  either 
new  to  the  others  or  nevertheless  listened  to  with  interest  because 
coming  from  the  lips  of  eye  witnesses. 

Lucy  was  the  one  least  excited.  She  greeted  her  brother  as  if 
he  had  been  absent  three  weeks  instead  of  three  years.  Richard 
of  course  could  not  help  noticing  this,  but  he  either  cared  little 
about  his  sister's  feelings  towards  him  or  he  was  well  skilled  in  hid 
ing  his  own.  He  treated  her  as  lightly  as  she  him  and  Dolores  be 
came  so  much  the  object  of  his  attention  that  the  whole  family 
could  not  well  help  noticing  it.  Dolores  alone,  in  her  innocence, 
failed  to  see  anything  unusual  in  his  conduct  and  therefore  lent 
him  her  ear  with  the  good-nature  which  formed  a  fundamental 
trait  in  her  character.  Once,  when  her  eye  suddenly,  though  un 
intentionally,  turned  to  the  place  where  Lucy  sat,  she  thought  she 
noticed  a  lurking  expression  in  her  look  which  startled  her.  Her 
eye  passed  on  however  and  when  a  minute  afterwards  it  met  that 
of  Lucy  a  second  time  nothing  but  the  old  tranquil  indifference  was 
visible. 

"I  must  have  been  mistaken,"  Dolores  said  to  herself,  ''though 
I  shouldn't  wonder  if  the  attention  this  loquacious  sailor  boy  pays 
to  my  humble  person  should  increase  her  hostility.  It  is  my  mis 
fortune  to  suffer  worst  for  what  I  value  least.  Heaven  knows  that 
I  would  gladly  be  spared  the  trouble  of  listening  to  his  suada  for, 
let  others  think  what  they  please,  I  am  not  at  all  inclined  to  believe 


308  DOLORES. 

in  the  reform  of  these  naval  heroes.  There  is  something  in  Rich 
ard's  eye  which  says,  beware !  I  wish  Charles  would  come." 

A  sigh  which  ended  this  soliloquy  induced  Richard  to  press  the 
question,  whether  she  felt  unwell.  A  slight  headache,  the  conse 
quence  of  her  trip  in  the  stage  coach,  gave  her  a  good  excuse  for 
withdrawing  to  her  room,  where  she  threw  herself  upon  her  bed  and 
soon  was  lost  in  a  crowd  of  promiscuous  thoughts. 

Richard  was  alone  with  Lucy  now,  for  Henry  had  gone  home 
immediately  after  Dolores'  departure  from  the  parlor.  He  made  a 
motion  like  one  that  throws  off  a  mask  and  said  to  his  sister : 

' '  Lucy  I  am  glad  we  can  have  a  tete-a-tete.  You  have  studied 
French  they  tell  me  and  you  know  what  that  means?" 

"Supposing,  I  do  Richard  ;  what  good  will  a  tete-a-tete  do  you  ? 
You  certainly  have  no  secrets  to  communicate?" 

"No  Lucy,  that  is  a  fact.  If  I  had,  I  might  choose  a  different 
person  to  confide  in." 

"  You  are  very  flattering  Richard,  I  must  confess.  If  the  be 
ginning  of  your  tete-a-tete  consists  of  taunts  what  will  the  end  be?" 

Richard  looked  at  his  sister  attentively. 

"  Lucy,"  he  said  after  a  few  moments,  "it  strikes  me  that  you 
have  changed  most  wonderfully  since  I  left  you.  Then  you  were 
the  embodiment  of  gentleness,  kindness  and  consideration  ;  now 
you  look  sour  enough  to  turn  into  No.  1  vinegar." 

"May  be  I  feel  like  what  I  look.  Many  things  have  changed 
here  besides  me  Richard." 

"So  it  seems,  Lucy.  Amongst  other  important  items  I  notice 
the  reception  of  Dolores  into  universal  favor." 

Lucy  smiled  scornfully. 

"  It  does  not  take  much  penetration  to  notice  that,"  she  said. 

"No,  nor  that  you  form  an  exception  to  the  rule.  What  can 
have  been  the  cause  of  it?  Does  Miss  Lucy  experience  slight 
touches  of  jealousy  and  envy?" 

Lucy's  f*ce  remained  unmoved. 

"  If  you  have  no  secrets  to  reveal  I,  for  my  part,  may.  In  such 
a  case,  however,  you  will  hardly  wonder  at  my  discretion." 

Richard  laughed. 

"Lucy,"  he  said,  I  do  not  recognize  in  you  the  little  girl  of 
yore.  But  you  have  changed  for  the  better,  have  improved.  You 


DOLORES.  309 

show  spunk  and  wit  and  cunning,  all  of  which  are  valuable  quali 
ties.  I  must  say  my  respect  for  you  has  considerably  increased 
since  this  tete-a-tete.  I  do  despise  nothing  more  than  girls  who 
can  be  classed  with  the  geese." 

"Am  I  to  consider  that  as  a  compliment  ?" 

"Decidedly.  Since  this  discovery  of  your  talents  I  shall  treat 
you  differently.  Instead  of  using  you  as  a  mere  puppet  I  shall 
now  give  you  a  clue  to  the  role  you  are  to  play." 

"Are  to  play  ?  Richard,  methinks  you  use  expressions  a  little 
bit  too  positive." 

"Do  I?  Beg  pardon,  then,  Lucy.  Of  course  I  expect  you  to 
further  my  interests  of  your  own  free  will,  and  shall  be  able  to 
convince  you  that  this  is  your  interest  as  well." 

"That  sounds  more' reasonable.  Let  me  hear  what  you  have 
to  say." 

' '  First,  Lucy,  allow  me  to  insinuate  that  you  act  very  foolishly 
in  giving  way  to  any  enmity  to  Dolores." 

' '  But  why  ?  Because  I  do  not  imitate  the  other  ?  I  have  seen 
very  well  that  you  attached  yourself  to  her  interests." 

"I  don't  deny  it;  but,  Lucy,  you  must  in  justice  confess  that 
you  are  as  much  to  blame  as  she.  While  she  received  me  kindly, 
you  turned  a  cold  shoulder  to  my  warm  advances." 

"That  may  be  ;  but  I  cannot  help  it.  It  makes  me  angry  to 
see  this  worship  of  the  golden  calf." 

"  Jealous,  upon  my  word  !  But,  Lucy,  you  forget  that  if  they 
all  changed  you  were  no  less  inconsistent  by  now  turning  her 
enemy." 

"  Never  mind  that  now  ;  but  come,  rather,  to  the  point." 

"  Very  well,  Lucy,  just  as  you  please.  I  have  made  up  my 
mind  to  marry  her.  Is  that  plain  enough  ?" 

Lucy  started  ;  but  she  didn't  do  her  brother  the  favor  of  seem 
ing  much  surprised.  On  the  contrary  she  broke  out  in  a  derisive 
laugh.  Richard  was  vexed. 

"  Will  you  please  tell  me  why  that  strikes  you  so  ridiculous  ?" 
he  asked. 

"Why  not,  Richard?  Leaving  out  the  question  of  the 
propriety  of  marrying  a  beggar-girl — for  she  is  really  nothing 
else — the  question  arises,  '  Will  she  take  you  ?' " 


310  DOLORES. 

"And  that  question,  Lucy,  you  think— 

"  Will  be  answered  in  the  negative." 

"The  deuce  it  will !  It  must  not  be  !  What  makes  you  think 
so  ?  The  match  is  not  so  bad.  The  governor  has  a  heap  of  cash 
and  I " 

He  stopped  and  cast  an  approving  look  at  his  person. 

"  '  Am  a  tolerably  handsome  fellow.'  That's  what  you  meant 
to  say.  Still  it  is  idle  to  speculate  about  it." 

Richard  hung  his  head,  but  only  for  a  moment. 

"You  see  things  too  dark,"  he  resumed.  "I  cannot  give  up  the 
hope  of  success  unless  you  prove  your  assertions.  Why  in  the 
world  should  she  refuse  to  marry  me  ?" 

"You  men  are  exceedingly  conceited.  If  nothing  else  will 
satisfy  you,  here  is  a  direct  answer :  'jShe  loves  somebody  else.' " 

"Is  that  all?" 

"  If  I  tell  you  his  name  you  will  change  your  tone." 

"  Out  with  the  name,  then." 

"  Charles  Fuchs." 

Richard  jumped  from  the  lounge  as  if  a  scorpion  had  stung 
him  ;  but  his  excitement  was  only  momentary,  at  least  as  far  as 
outward  appearances  were  concerned. 

"  Fool  that  I  was,  to  be  frightened  by  a  name.  It  was  a  mere 
paroxysm  and  is  over  now." 

"  Ah,  Richard,  don't  dissemble  to  me.     I  know  you  fear  him." 

"  I  did  at  one  time,  I  confess ;  but  that  time  is  over.  His  name 
had  the  old  power,  but  only  for  a  moment,  I  tell  you  I  fear  him 
no  longer  ;  but  I  hate  him.  There  is  no  recollection  of  my  child 
hood  which  is  not  in  some  way  or  other  mixed  up  with  his  hateful 
face.  He  crossed  me  in  every  wish,  he  foiled  me  in  every  under 
taking  ;  all  my  humiliations  bear  his  name,  and  if  I  have  cause  to 
hate  anybody  it  is  Charles  Fuchs.  But  I  tell  you  I  do  not  fear 
him  any  more  ;  why  should  I  ?  Perhaps,  because  he  had  easy  days 
at  college,  while  I  had  to  battle  with  winds  and  waves  and  do  the 
lowest  kind  of  labor. ' ' 

"  But,  Richard,  it  was  your  choice  to  go  to  sea ;  you  might  just 
as  easily  have  gone  to  college  if  you  had  chosen.  You  surely  can 
not  blame  him  for  hardships  of  your  own  choosing." 

"  AVhy,  you  wax  eloquent  in   his  defense.     If  I  recollect  right 


DOLORES.  311 

there  was  always  quite  a  penchant  of  yours  that  way.  I  see  it  all 
now.  Dolores  has  been  condemned  in  your  sight  because  she  dared 
to  lift  her  eyes  to  a  man  whom  Miss  Lucy  has  condescended  to 
adore. ' ' 

Lucy  made  a  disconnected  attempt  to  disprove  the  charge,  but 
her  confusion  only  confirmed  his  opinion. 

"  Don't  you  deny  it,  Lucy,"  he  said,  "for  I  shall  believe  it  not 
withstanding.  But,  then,  that  is  no  reason  why  we  two  should 
quarrel.  I  sacrifice  my  hatred  to  you,  you  yours  to  me,  and  we 
are  even.  Meanwhile,  we  can  promote  each  other's  interest  to  the 
best  of  our  ability.  How  do  you  like  the  plan  ?  If  you  agree 
here  is  my  hand." 

In  justice  to  Lucy,  we  must  confess  that  he  took  rather  than 
received  her  hand.  The  gain  of  an  ally  restored  Richard's  good 
humor. 

"I  know  now  that  Dolores  loves  this  Charles  Fuchs ;  but  I 
should  like  to  ask  another  question,  if  it  wasn't  rather  delicate  un 
der  the  circumstances," 

"  Do  not  spare  me,  Richard,"  Lucy  answered  in  a  gloomy  tone. 
* '  I  know  what  you  want  to  ascertain.  I  dom  believe  that  Charles 
returns  her  passion." 

This  was  uttered  with  such  melancholy  sadness  that  even  her 
selfish  brother  was  touched. 

"  Poor  Lucy  !"  he  said.  "I  pity  you  with  all  my  heart ;  but 
pity  alone  will  not  mend  matters.  We  must  act,  conspire,  spring 
mjnes — jn  short,  do  everything  in  our  power  to  foil  this  union  and 
reach  our  purpose.  I'll  go  to  mother  now  to  gain  her  sympathy, 
and  you  may  in  the  meanwhile  keep  your  eyes  and  ears  open  to 
benefit  by  any  chance  that  may  present  itself." 

Alas  !  the  seed  thus  sown  fell  on  a  fertile  soil.  It  sprouted, 
grew,  and  ripened  to  a  resolution  which  put  at  jeopardy  the  happi 
ness  of  two  beings. 

Richard  found  his  mother  in  her  room.  The  excitement  of  the 
last  two  days  had  somewhat  affected  her  nerves  and  Dr.  Palmer, 
who  had  called  to  see  the  children  and  on  that  occasion  seen  the 
mother,  had  advised  an  afternoon's  retirement.  She  smiled  when 
Richard  stepped  into  the  room. 

"That  is  kind  in  you,  my  boy,  to  sacrifice  your  leisure  to  your 


312  DOLORES. 

mother  while  more  entertaining  sport  is  to  be  found  below.  I  am 
so  glad  to  see  you,  Richard,  and  you  can  hardly  realize  how 
much  I  missed  you  all  the  time.  Come  here,  my  son,  and  tell 
your  mother  all  you  have  to  say  and  yet  would  not  confide  to  every 
body." 

Richard  followed  her  invitation. 

"  A  mother's  eye  sees  sharp,  they  say,"  he  remarked.  "  I  have 
indeed  a  matter  which  I  wish  to  confide  to  you.  It  is  a  love  affair 
mother." 

Ladies  always  like  to  hear  of  love  affairs.  So  Mrs.  Fox  did 
not  disguise  her  pleasure  when  she  answered  : 

"  A  love  affair  ?     Perhaps  you  captured  the  heart  of  some  for 
eign  princess  and  now  want  my  consent  to  your  union  ?" 

"No,  mother,  not  exactly,"  Richard  answered  with  a  laugh. 
"  The  mistress  of  my  heart  is  but  a  beggar-girl." 

"A  what?" 

The  old  nature  of  Mrs.  Fox  flashed  up,  and  for  a  moment  she 
felt  inclined  to  resent  what  she  considered  an  improper  joke.  But, 
regaining  her  self-control  as  quickly  as  she  had  lost  it,, she  added  : 

"Explain  yourself,  my  son.  You  surely  cannot  take  pleasure 
in  making  sport  of  your  mother." 

"No,  mother,  nothing  is  further  from  my  mind.  You  will  see 
yourself  as  soon  as  I  pronounce  the  name  of  my  intended.  It  is 
Dolores." 

"Dolores?" 

Mrs.  Fox's  amazement  was  genuine.  She  would  have  thought 
of  any  name  sooner  than  that.  Her  son  had  been  away  so  long  and 
only  returned  a  day  or  two  before,  and  yet  this  love,  it  was  very 
strange. 

"  Yes,  mother,  Dolores.  I  wonder  at  your  amazement.  Has 
my  selection  not  your  approbation  ?  " 

: '  Yes,  Richard,  very  much,  only  I  thought — now  I  see  what 
you  meant  by  beggar-girl.  But  Dolores  is  no  beggar-girl,  Richard. 
Did  father  never  tell  you  of  her  birth  ?  She  is  a  dutchess  by  right." 

"  I  know  she  is  ! "  Richard  eagerly  broke  in  upon  her  words ; 
then  checking  himself  he  continued:  "That  is,  I  mean  I  was 
aware  of  her  origin.  It  isn't  the  dutchess  tho'  I  love,  but  the  girl 
herself." 


DOLORES.  313 

"  God  bless  you  Richard  !  " 

That  was  his  mother's  benediction  and  consent.  If  she  had 
known  what,  a  black  lie  he  had  uttered,  she  would  have  cursed,  in 
stead  of  blessing  him. 

11  Thank  you  mother,"  he  now  resumed.  "I  know  that  you 
have  great  influence  over  Dolores.  Would  you  kindly  use  it  in  my 
favor?" 

Mrs.  Fox  shrugged  her  sholders. 

"My  influence  over  her?  If  you  had  spoken  of  her  influ 
ence  over  me  you  would  have  been  more  correct.  Dolores,  my  boy, 
is  not  the  girl  to  be  influenced,  and  unless  you  succeed  in  winning 
her  free  consent,  neither  I  nor  your  father  would  venture  to  influ 
ence  her  decision." 

"A  princess  indeed!"  Richard  replied  somewhat  derisively. 
"  A  real  one  could  not  receive  more  homage." 

'  *  A  real  one  would  not  deserve  more.  No,  my  boy,  do  not  rely 
much  on  my  influence ;  yet  what  I  have  is  at  your  disposal." 

"  Thank  you  mother,  that  is  all  I  ask.  I  hardly  expect  Dol 
ores  will  accept  me  all  at  once.  I  have  four  or  five  months  at  my 
disposal,  and  all  I  ask  is  to  gain  permission  to  pay  my  attention  to 
her." 

"  That  demand  is  so  reasonable  that  a  reasonable  girl  like  Dolores 
will  hardly  deny  it,  unless — 

"Unless  what?  "  he  asked  impatiently  when  she  stopped. 

"  Unless  her  heart  is  already  engaged." 

There  !  a  second  time  this  objection  !  Until  now  he  had  hoped 
that  his  sister  had  been  mistaken,  but  now  on  his  mother's  hint  he 
ceased  to  doubt.  Very  well  then,  let  it  be  so.  The  knowledge  of 
this  love  of  hers,  or  his  too  for  that  matter,  shall  not  detain  him. 
If  he  cannot  win  her  by  fair  means  he  shall  use  foul  ones,  for  the 
prize  at  stake  is  too  great  to  be  lost.  It  is  not  only  the  girl  he  cov 
ets,  tho'  it  cannot  be  denied  that  her  luxuriant  beauty  begins  to 
exercise  a  powerful  charm  on  his  sensual  nature,  it  is  the 

Looking  shyly  around  he  interrupts  his  own  thoughts.  So 
much  does  he  fear  profane  ears  may  catch  the  secret  of  his  soul. 

There  is  one  thing  in  his  favor :  Charles  will  not  arrive  before 
the  expiration  of  another  week ;  he  has  seven  entire  days  to  work 
in.  But  he  has  only  these  seven,  and  what  he  expects  to  accom- 


314  DOLORES. 

plish  must  be  accomplished  within  that  time.  But  then,  what 
shall  he  do  ?  Can  he  calumniate  the  character  of  the  absent  one 
and  entice  Dolores  to  a  hasty  pledge  from  which  she  cannot,  will 
not,  back  out  ?  Can  he  try  the  same  game  on  him  by  playing  into 
his  hands  a  forged  letter,  which  shows  her  character  as  one  that's 
lost  to  honor  and  repute  ?  Both  tricks  are  hazardous  and  too  un 
certain  of  result.  Something  more  cunning  must  be  invented,  so 
cunning  that  even  their  sharp  wit  fails  to  comprehend  it.  Or  stop  ! 
would  not  the  very  simplest  trap  be  the  one  best  calculated  for  such 
superior  minds  ?  Yes  indeed  the  thought  is  worthy  of  his  brain- 
he  might  have  said  a  demon's  just  as  well— and  nothing  remains  to 
be  done  except  to  set  the  trap  and  fix  the  time  of  execution.  But 
there  is  no  need  of  hurry,  in  spite  of  the  shortness  of  the  time.  In 
deed  he  knows  that  many  a  plot  has  fallen  from  sheer  precipitation. 
He  must  first  explore  the  grounds.  Fortune  seldom  forsakes  the 
bold  and  he  does  not  doubt  that  more  than  one  chance  will  be 
offered  before  the  expiration  of  many  hours. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

INSTRUCTIONS. 

The  family  at  the  cottage,  though  glad  at  Henry's  arrival,  and 
participating  in  the  joy  of  their  friends  at  the  mansion,  had,  so  to 
speak,  hardly  reached  the  climax  of  their  satisfaction.  Charles, 
the  light  of  their  eyes,  the  joy  of  their  hearts  ;  he  who,  under  all 
circumstances,  had  proved  himself  the  worthy  recipient  of  their 
most  fervent  love,  was  yet  absent.  But  he  was  to  come,  and  that 
fact  alone  was  sufficient  to  spread  a  glow  of  joyous  anticipation  over 
their  faces  which  cast  its  reflection  even  on  Henry.  Not  that  he 
had  experienced  much  delight  at  the  thought  of  soon  meeting  his 
brother  ;  no,  he  was  at  best  very  indifferent  about  it ;  but  his  par 
ents  loved  him  more  dearly  on  his  brother's  account,  probably  with 
out  knowing  themselves.  He,  however,  knew  and  this  knowledge 
was  hardly  calculated  to  inspire  him  with  very  warm  feelings  toward 
his  brother.  He  had  always  begrudged  Charles  thj  first  place  in 


DOLOKES.  315 

his  parents'  love,  without  ever  taking  the  trouble  of  finding  the 
solution  of  that  problem  in  his  own  short  comings.  To  speak  the 
truth,  his  probation  on  the  ocean  had  not  improved  him  much,  if 
any,  notwithstanding  Captain  Tarfield's  laudatory  letter,  and  if  it 
hadn't  been  for  the  pleasant  excitement  of  his  parents  they  would 
have  seen  it  at  once. 

Ever  since  the  departure  of  the  two  sons,  Mr.  Burlesque  had 
been  an  inmate  of  the  family.  He  had  occupied  Charlie's  room 
and  taken  care  of  Charlie's  pets  and  collection,  at  that  young  man's 
particular  request.  At  first  Mrs.  Fuchs  could  not  bear  the  thought 
of  seeing  a  stranger  installed  in  the  room  where  the  spirit  of  her 
boy  had  left  its  impress  on  every  spot.  But  gradually  the  winning 
ways  of  the  new  comer  and  especially  his  enthusiastic  love  for 
Charles  had  overcome  her  repugnance.  She  had  long  ago  received 
him  under  her  particular  care  and  in  her  particular  affection,  and 
Mr.  Burlesque  vowed  that  if  he  had  improved  in  these  three  years 
it  was  solely  due  to  the  salutary  influence  of  Charlie's  mother. 

It  was  touching  to  see  how  these  two  persons  now  vied  in  mak 
ing  the  reception  of  the  favorite  a  festival  worthy  of  his  merits. 
Mr.  Burlesque  spent  all  his  spare  hours  in  fixing  up  the  room,  in 
arranging  the  books,  dusting  the  glass  cases  containing  Charlie's 
collection  of  butterflies  a^nd  insects,  in  polishing  the  memorable 
engine  and,  lastly,  in  repainting  the  cages  and  enclosures  of  the 
animals  in  the  zoological  department  of  the  garden.  Mrs.  Fuchs, 
in  the  meantime,  was  hardly  less  busy  in  her  department.  She 
completed  her  stock  in  pantry  and  cellar,  and  studied  in  advance 
such  cakes  as  she  would  bake  because  he  liked  them  best.  Her 
husband  nodded  and  smiled  at  her  bustle  and  activity,  and  so  did 
Henry  smile  ;  but  a  careful  observer  would  have  noticed  an  ingre 
dient  of  bitter  envy  in  his  smile,  and  that  he  ground  his  teeth  when 
indulging  in  this  manifestation  of  satisfaction.  The  observer  would 
have  shook  his  head  and  wondered  what  all  this  would  come  to  yet. 

Mr.  Burlesque  did  not  like  the  brother  of  his  friend.  He  had 
mixed  too  much  with  society  of  every  description  as  not  to  undei^ 
stand  the  character  of  Henry.  Burlesque  himself  had  been  of 
rather  loose  habits  and  he  surely  was  the  last  person  to  cast  a  stone 
at  Henry  for  a  similar  weakness.  But  it  was  hardly  for  such  a  de 
fect  that  he  would  have  taken  the  young  mariner  to  account. 


316  DOLORES. 

There  was  a  certain  something  in  him  which  Burlesque  felt  but  yet 
could  not  define.  The  comedian  could  think  of  nothing  more  fit 
ting  to  compare  him  with  than  the  cat.  When  he  saw  Henry 
strolling  about  with  his  eyes  half  shut,  his  gait  loitering  but  his 
step  noiseless  and  cautious,  he  could  not  help  thinking  of  that  ani 
mal.  You  stroke  her  and  she  purrs  and  brushes  her  soft  fur  against 
you.  She  curves  her  back  and  whisks  her  tail ;  in  short  she  shows 
every  sign  of  supreme  satisfaction.  But  you  look  into  her  eyes 
and  you  will  perceive  that  expression  of  malignant  cunning  and 
cruel  heartlessness  which  she  cannot  entirely  conceal.  You  also 
see  the  working  of  the  claws  as  they  lie  concealed  in  the  ball  of  the 
paw,  but  there  is  a  nervous  twitching  in  them  as  if  the  animal  was 
laboring  under  a  strong  temptation  to  spread  them  out"  and  sink 
them  into  the  hand  which  caresses  it,  unconscious  of  its  danger. 

Henry,  on  the  other  hand,  seemed  equally  disinclined  to  make 
much  of  Mr.  Burlesque.  He  spent  most  of  his  time  in  Richard's 
company  and  the  two  were  more  frequently  seen  at  the  mansion 
than  at  the  cottage.  Their  long  companionship  on  board  the  ves 
sel  made  the  intimacy  so  natural  that  their  parents  found  nothing 
strange  in  it ;  but  if  they  could  have  witnessed  all  their  secret 
meetings  and  whispered  conversations  they  might  perhaps  have 
changed  their  opinion.  The  nearer  the  day  of  Charlie's  arrival 
approached  the  more  numerous  did  these  interviews  become.  Some 
times  Richard  and  Henry  put  their  heads  together  and  then  again 
Richard  and  his  sister  might  be  seen  in  lively  but  guarded  conver 
sation.  It  was  on  coming  from  one  of  the  latter  that  we  see  Rich 
ard  wending  his  way  to  the  cottage.  Henry  was  sitting  on  the 
porch  indulging  in  his  favorite  amusement,  smoking  and  idling. 

''Come  in,  Dick,"  he  cried,  when  he  saw  the  other  stopping  at 
the  gate. 

"  No,  you  come  down,  Henry.  1  want  to  have  a  chat  with  you. 
Let  us  stroll  up  and  down  the  road." 

Hem:y  would  have  preferred  to  prolong  his  siesta,  but  then 
•Richard  wished  him  to  come  out  and  Richard  generally  knew  what 
he  was  about,  so  he  joined  him. 

"  "Well,  what's  the  matter  this  time,  Dick?" 

"  The  old  yarn,  Henry,  old  but  always  new." 

"What's  up  now?" 


DOLOKES.  317 

' '  I  have  a  paper  in  my  pocket  that's  worth  a  hundred  thousand 
dollars." 

11  No.     The  governor  hasn't  been  that  generous  ?" 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,  Hen.  I  am  only  speaking  figuratively.  The 
paper  in  my  possession  is  more  than  likely  to  help  me  to  those  nice 
domains  in  Italy,  you  know." 

"Ah!" 

"  And  you  to  a  handsome  fortune  in  the  bargain." 

"  So  much  the  better." 

"  But  ain't  you  curious,  Henry  ?" 

"No,  you  know  I  never  was.     'Tis  too  much  trouble." 

"  Well,  your  laziness  beats  all  I  ever  saw  in  that  line.  I  like 
my  leisure  as  well  as  you,  but  when  it  comes  to  working  out  a 
plan—" 

"I  thought  you  were  going  to  tell  me  something?" 

"  And  so  I  am.     See  here,  do  you  know  this  writing  ?" 

"  No,  I  don't." 

"Well,  it  is  Dolores'." 

"Ah!" 

"  A  leaf  from  her  diary." 

"Ah!" 

"And  a  precious  leaf,  I  tell  you.     Just  read  this  line." 

"  '  Do  I  love  him  f    No,  I  love  him  not.'     There  now  !" 

"  What  does  she  mean?     I  do  not  understand  it." 

"  She  talks  about  your  brother.     It  is  he  she  does  not  love." 

"But  you  told  me  the  contrary  all  along." 

"  I  say  so  yet.  But  this  paper  says  she  does  not  love  him.  It 
surely  isn't  our  business  to  contradict  her  own  writing." 

"Of  course  it  isn't.     But  what  does  it  mean ?" 

"It  means  there  is  another  page  following  this  one  in  which  she 
states  that  instead  of  loving  she  worships  him." 

"  Ha  !  ha  !     I  suppose  that  was  a  bitter  pill  for  you,  Dick  ?" 

"I  did't  see  it  myself,  but  only  learned  it  from  Lucy." 

'•That  doesn't  make  it  any  sweeter.  And  this  leaf  you  got 
from  Lucy,  did  you  ?" 

"Yes,  she  is  a  precious  girl,  and  by  getting  her  you'll  get  a 
jewel.  None  of  your  dry,  insipid  wax  dolls." 

"I  haven't  got  her  yet." 


318  DOLORES. 

11  But  you  shall  have  her  ;  depend  upon  it." 

"Did  you  sound  her  on  that  point ?"  Henry  asked  with  more 
vivacity  than  he  had  yet  shown. 

"  No,  I  didn't.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  Henry,  your  case  doesn't 
look  any  more  favorably  than  mine.  In  fact  I  knowr  she  looks  with 
partiality  upon  your  brother." 

A  curse  slipped  through  Henry's  lips. 

"  He  always  was  in  my  way." 

"And  in  mine,  too." 

"  He  always  foiled  my  purposes." 

"And  mine,  too." 

"I  hate  him." 

"And  so  do  I." 

"  He  must  not  interfere  writh  me  in  this  instance."     . 

' '  Nor  with  me,  Henry.  You  see  we  are  natural  allies.  If  he 
succeeds  we  are  done  for.  By  his  ruin  wre  may  effect  our  fortune." 

"  You  are  right.     But  how  can  we  accomplish  our  purpose?" 

"By  working  into  one  another's  hands.  All  that  is  necessary 
is  to  induce  your  brother  to  believe  that  Dolores  is  faithless,  or 
rather,  that  she  does  not  love  him  ;  for  I  hardly  think  that  they 
have  already  plighted  one  another's  faith." 

"  And  you  hope  to  accomplish  that  by  placing  this  paper  in  his 
hands?" 

"  Just  so,  Henry,  and  by  placing  myself  before  his  eyes  in  the 
light  of  a  successful  wooer." 

"  That's  a  devilish  good  idea,  I  must  say." 

' '  Yes,  it  is  good  enough  ;  but  the  idea  alone  won't  do  it,  and  I 
rely  on  your  assistance  to  turn  it  to  account." 

"  What  do  you  want  me  fo  do  ?" 

"I  was  just  going  to  explain.  You  have  been  absent  at  sea, 
you  know,  and  you  come  home  a  repentant  sinner  with  a  heart  full 
of  love  and  tenderness  for  the  long-missed  brother." 

"But,  Richard,  that  is  a  confounded  lie." 

"Never  mind  the  lie.  The  weight  of  just  one  more  will  hardly 
kill  you.  Well,  our  dear  Charles  arrives  ;  he  jumps  from  the  car 
riage,  and,  before  he  knows  it,  a  loving  brother  lies  in  his  arms." 

"  Split  me  if  he  does  anything  like  it !" 

' '  Henry,   you  are  a  trying  case.     Have  the  kindness  to  hold 


DOLORES.  319 

your  peace  until  I  have  done.  Where  was  I  ?  Oh,  yes  !  a  loving 
brother  lies  in  his  arms.  He  is  agreeably  surprised.  His  conscience 
tells  him  that  he  hardly  deserves  such  love,  and  he  resolves  to 
make  up  for  lost  time.  Arm  in  arm  the  affectionate  couple  step 
into  the  house.  Enter  delighted  parents  with  profusion  of  bless 
ings.  An  affecting  drama  is  put  in  scene  ;  domestic  happiness  in 
one  act.  Persons:  Adam  and  Eve,  Cain  and  Abel !" 

"  I  am  Cain  I  suppose  ?" 

"  Suit  yourself.  Who'd  be  that  soft  dunce  of  an  Abel  ?  But  I 
told  you  not  to  interrupt  me.  You  make  me  lose  my  thread." 

' '  Cain  and  Abel  was  the  last." 

"Exactly,  Cain  and  Abel.  Abel  is  in  love  and  consequently 
something  of  a  fool.  Cain's  friend  has  a  hankering  after  Abel's 
mistress  and  has  managed  to  get  a  leaf  of  her  diary,  on  which  she 
says  she  doesn't  love  Abel." 

' '  I  didn't  know  they  understood  the  art  of  writing  as  early  as 
that." 

"Henry,  you  are  intolerable.  If  I  didn't  need  you  so  badly 
I'd  desert  you  on  the  spot." 

"  Well,  can't  you  let  a  fellow  show  his  learning  every  once  in  a 
while  ?" 

"  Well,  yes,  excuse  me.  They  ought  to  have  made  you  profes 
sor  of  history.  But  to  come  back  to  our  drama.  Abel  has  been 
absent  and  flies  to  see  his  mistress;  but,  Cain — you  pay  attention, 
do  you  ?" 

"  Go  ahead,  steamboat." 

' '  Very  well,  I'm  coming  to  the  point  now.  Cain,  because  of  the 
great  love  he  bears  his  brother,  just  catches  him  by  the  coat-sleeve 
and  stops  his  exit.  Abel  frowns  and  wonders  ;  but  Cain,  remain 
ing  undiscomfited,  says  with  a  tender  smile,  'Excuse  me,  brother 
dear  ;  you  do  not  like  my  conduct,  but  you  will  appreciate  it  when 
you  read  these  lines.  I  don't  want  my  brother  to  make  a  fool  of 
himself.'  " 

"Very  ingenious,  Dicky;  the  deuce  take  me  if  it  isn't." 

"I  knew  you  would  say  so,  Henry.  Need  I  paint  further  de 
tails  of  the  scene  ?" 

"  No,  sir,  let  me  have  the  paper." 

' '  And  you'll  be  sure  to  act  your  role  to  nature  ?" 


320  DOLORES. 

"Never  mind  me.  If  you  carry  out  your  part  of  the  program 
as  well  as  I'll  play  mine  you  may  be  pretty  sure  of  success.  But, 
then,  what  will  you  gain  by  this  ?" 

"I'll  gain  this  much:  that  a  cloud  of  distrust  will  arise  be 
tween  them,  and  in  a  cloud,  you  know,  a  good  many  tricks  may  be 
performed.  Charles  is  a  proud,  hasty  fellow,  and  Dolores  is  not 
slow  to  resent  insults.  If  we  can  only  raise  a  spark  of  discord  be 
tween  them  we  shall  soon  manage  to  fan  it  into  a  flame." 

"  Well,  maybe  we  can  ;  it  is  worth  trying  anyhow.  But  I  am  too 
tired  to  walk  any  further.  Come,  let's  go  home  and  have  a  glass 
of  wine." 

"  I  have  no  objection,  Hen.  ;  but,  before  we  return,  let  us  fix 
on  some  certain  signal  by  which  you  can  without  delay  inform  me 
of  your  brother's  coming.  It  is  essential  that  I,  should  receive  in 
stant  warning." 

' '  How  would  the  flagstaff  on  the  cottage  do  ?  I  could  run  up 
a  small  streamer  to  let  you  know." 

"Exactly.  We  can  easily  perceive  it  from  the  mansion  ;  but 
when  do  you  expect  your  brother  ?" 

"  We  got  a  letter  this  morning  announcing  his  arrival  on  Sun 
day  morning  next." 

"Then  he'll  come  with  the  night  train  ?" 

"That's  the  calculation." 

"  And  you  will  fetch  him  from  the  depot  ?" 
"  Father  or  Burlesque,  I  suppose.     I  hate  to  get  up  so  early  in 
the  morning." 

Richard  thought  a  moment. 

"  See  here,  Henry,  I  shall  want  a  second  signal  to  announce  his 
impending  visit  to  the  mansion.  It  is  essential  that  I  should  play 
the  agreeable  lover  just  in  time  for  him  to  see  the  sight." 

"That's  true.  I  have  an  idea  Dolores  wouldn't  let  }rou  play 
the  sentimental  swain  any  length  of  time." 

"Don't  you  fret.  I'll  do  it,  sir,  and  do  it  well.  But  what 
about  the  second  signal  ?" 

"  Why,  I  have  a  dozen  streamers  in  my  trunk.  I  can  easily  run 
up  a  second  one  as  soon  fis  he  starts  off  for  the  mansion." 

"And  they'll  think  you  are  flagging  in  honor  of  his  arrival. 
Ha!  ha!  that  will  be  capital  !" 


DOLORES.  321 

' '  Yes,  so  it  will,  no  doubt ;  but  a  glass  of  wine  and  a  good  cigar 
are  not  to  be  despised  either.  Here  is  the  house.  I  am  tired 
enough  to  drop  right  down.  Come  in  !  come  in,  sir  !" 

Richard  could  not  well  refuse.  He  liked  a  glass  of  wine,  espe 
cially  as  it  was  as  good  as  that  of  Mr.  Fuchs',  and  then  he  had  to 
humor  Henry,  who  was  an  indispensable  accomplice.  So  the  two 
went  in  and  Henry  got  the  key  and  a  few  minutes  afterwards  the 
wine  sparkled  in  the  glasses.  Sitting  on  easy  chairs  and  puffing 
their  fragrant  Havanas,  they  sipped  their  wine  with  a  relish  and  a 
deep  tranquility,  as  if  the  most  angelic  business  instead  of  a  fiend 
ish  plot  had  just  now  been  transacted  between  them.  They  talked 
about  their  cruises,  and,  one  word  chasing  the  other,  it  was  nearly 
evening  before  Richard  recollected  that  he  intended  only  to  stay  a 
few  minutes  and  that  business  of  the  most  important  kind  was 
waiting  for  him  at  the  house.  He  had  only  a  few  days  to  operate 
in  and  no  minute  was  to  be  lost. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

THE    MITTEN. 

When  he  reached  the  mansion  the  bell  just  rang  for  supper, 
and  he  hastened  to  join  the  family  in  a  very  pleasant  meal.  The 
many  topics  which  a  long  absence  from  home  had  accumulated 
were  not  half  exhausted  and  the  conversation  sprang  playfully 
from  one  subject  to  another.  After  supper  Mrs.  Fox  retired  to  her 
room,  Mr.  Fox  to  his  library,  and  the  two  girls  and  Richard  to  the 
parlor.  The  days  were  not  only  getting  short,  but  cold,  and  the 
grate,  therefore,  contained  a  cheerful  fire.  The  room  was  elegant 
and  comfortable,  and  Richard  felt  a  keen  feeling  of  satisfaction 
when  he  dropped  into  the  swelling  cushions  of  an  arm-chair,  ex 
changing  occasional  remarks  now  with  Dolores,  now  with  Lucy. 
The  open  instrument  called  his  mind  to  music. 

"Dolores,  I  have  not  heard  you  play,"  he  said,  "and  yet  they 
tell  me  that  you  excel  in  music  as  much  as  in  everything  else. 
Will  you  have  the  kindness  to  perform  for  me  ?" 

21 


322  DOLORES. 

' '  You  have  learned  to  turn  your  phrases  well  enough  for  a  tar, 
I  shall  play  for  you  on  condition  that  you  will  hereafter  exclude 
the  unwholesome  element  of  flattery  from  your  remarks  to  me." 
"I'll  do  most  anything  to  please  you." 

Dolores  shrugged  her  shoulders,  as  if  to  say,  '•"  Why,  you  are 
incorrigible  !"  Perhaps  to  gratify  his  wish,  perhaps  to  escape  fur 
ther  adulation  from  his  lips,  she  rose  and  took  the  seat  before  the- 
instrument.  Running  her  fingers  up  and  down  the  keys  and  elicit 
ing  from  them  some  rapid  passages  like  as  many  silver  pearls,  she 
involuntarily,  yes  imperceptibly,  fell  into  the  air  of  "Home,  Sweet 
Home !"  which  she  worked  into  an  everchanging  string  of  varia 
tions.  Like  every  true  artist,  she  forgot  that  she  was  performing  a 
task,  even  that  she  played  before  somebody.  While  her  fantasy 
raised  its  wings  higher  and  higher  her  thoughts  began  to  wander 
back,  far  back  into  the  past.  She  saw  a  sick  and  faltering  min 
strel  in  the  street  with  a  little  girl  at  his  side,  and  a  tear  slipped 
down  her  cheek  as  an  offering  to  the  memory  of  the  dead.  Then 
she  ran  over  the  years  that  followed,  varying  her  music  in  accord 
ance  with  the  gayer  or  sadder  subjects  of  her  thought.  She  saw 
the  cottage  and  its  inmates,  the  parsonage  with  the  quaint  but  noble 
pair,  the  ocean  and  the  cave,  and  the  exciting  scenes  she  there  had 
gone  through.  Next  her  school-life  rose  up  to  view,  the  French 
man  with  his  cut  and  dried  perfection,  the  odd  but  genial  German, 
the  model  principal  and  her  prince  consort.  Then  came  the  con 
test,  the  homeward  journey  and  arrival- 
She  gave  a  start.  She  did  not  know  how  long  she  had  been 
playing.  Richard  didn't  either.  He  thought  it  had  been  very 
tiresome  ;  but,  of  course,  kept  his  thought  unto  himself.  When 
Dolores  had  begun  he  had  penciled  a  short  note  and  shoved  it  to 
his  sister,  in  consequence  of  which  she  had  risen  and  retired  so 
softly  as  to  escape  the  notice  of  the  performer.  After  that  Richard 
had  wished  that  Dolores  would  stop.  He  didn't  care  about  music ; 
he  didn't  understand  it ;  nothing  but  thumping,  dingling,  jingling, 
anyhow.  If  she  would  only  stop !  Of  course  he  couldn't  hint  his 
wishes.  He  couldn't  begin  to  entertain  the  thought  of  causing 
her  displeasure.  She'll  get  tired  at  last.  There,  now,  she's  clos 
ing.  Now  is  the  time,  Dick  ! 

Dolores  rose  rapidly  from  her  stool.     On  noticing  Lucy's  with- 


DOLORES.  323 

drawal  a  shadow  passed  over  her  brow.  Jealous  !  forever  jealous ! 
wfere  the  words  which  passed  through  her  mind.  The  thought  was 
natural,  for,  of  course,  she  didn't  know  anything  of  Richard's 
manoeuvres. 

"  I  must  have  tired  you,  Richard,"  she  said,  taking  her  book 
and  handkerchief  from  the  table,  evidently  preparing  for  retire 
ment  ;  "but  you  will'  undoubtedly  pardon  the  offense  on  the  prom 
ise  of  its  non-recurrence." 

"I  have  nothing  to  pardon,  Dolores,  but  rather  to  thank  you 
for  the  entertainment.  But  I  am  in  a  mood  for  asking  favors  this 
evening.  Will  you  have  the  kindness  to  take  your  chair  and 
vouchsafe  me  a  few  minutes'  conversation  ?  I  shall  not  detain 
you  long." 

Dolores  smiled,  but  she  resumed  her  previous  position  in  the 
rocking-chair. 

"I  never  had  an  idea  that  the  ocean  was  such  a  good  school 
for  politeness.  It  will  hardly  do  to  slight  so  respectful  a  solicita 
tion,  especially  when  the  petitioner  is  a  brother." 

The  word  "brother"  seemed  to  grate  on  Richard's  ears.  He 
could  not  suffer  her  to  put  that  bar  between  herself  and  his  aspira 
tions. 

"Xo,  not  of  a  brother,  Dolores.  Understand  me  right:  It 
would  make  me  happy  to  sustain  that  relation  to  one  so  good,  so 
noble  and  accomplished  if  I  was  not  ambitious  of  assuming  one 
still  more  intimate  and  sacred.  Dolores,  I  tremble  more  before 
your  sight  than  I  did  during  the  raging  of  the  tempest.  Spare  me 
a  further  explanation  and  tell  me  that  you  understand  me." 

She  did  understand  him  ;  but  her  sensations  on  discovering  this 
meaning  were  anything  but  pleasant.  She  felt  like  one  who  sees 
a  venomous  serpent  winding  at  his,  feet,  ready  to  fasten  its  loathing 
coils  around  turn  in  unrequited  tenderness.  But  she  had  no  sooner 
become  aware  of  this  feeling,  when  she  blamed  herself  for  it  as  un 
worthy  of  her  generous  nature.  If  Richard  had  once  wandered 
astray  he  had  atoned  by  a  long  and  painful  probation.  There  was 
no  dishonor  to  her  in  his  avowal,  and  this  idea  having  struggled  to 
the  surface  of  her  mind  her  original  indignation  and  repugnance 
changed  to  deep  compassion.  She  thought  of  Charles  and  her  love 
for  him,  and  how  she  would  feel  on  being  spurned  and  loathed,  as 


324  DOLORES. 

she  had  first  intended  that  Richard  now  should  be.  Of  course,  it 
did  not  take  her  more  than  a  second  to  let  these  thoughts  flash 
through  her  mind,  and  there  had  been  hardly  a  pause  when  she 
replied  : 

11  It  would  be  unworthy  of  me  and  trifling  with  you  to  pretend 
I  didn't  understand  you,  Richard.  I  do  understand  you,  but  it  is 
my  painful  duty  to  warn  you  not  to  proceed.  I  cannot,  never  will 
be  able  to  listen  to  your  .wishes,  and  the  sooner  you  desist 
from  your  efforts  the  more  will  you  spare  your  own  feelings  and 
mine." 

Richard  knew  that  this  would  be  her  answer  ;  moreover,  he  was 
merely  acting  the  passionate  lover  for  a  purpose  ;  yet,  when  he 
heard  himself  thus  peremptorily  refused,  he  felt  a  burning  ire  aris 
ing  within  him.  He  felt  like  hurling  his  defiance  at  the  head  of 
this  proud  beauty  who  spoke  or  thought,  at  least,  any  aspirations 
to  her  hand  on  his  part  mere  presumption.  Indeed  for  a  moment 
he  was  in  great  danger  of  falling  from  his  role,  and  many  a  bitter 
hour  would  such  an  occurrence  have  spared  the  girl ;  but,  unfortu 
nately,  he  governed  himself  in  time  to  hide  his  emotion.  Assum 
ing  a  sad  and  reproachful  tone,  he  said  : 

11  Dolores,  have  you  really  the  heart  of  shutting  thus  on  me 
the  gate  of  heaven  without  any  chance  of  entrance  whatever  ?.  If 
you  forbid  a  fellow  thus  peremptorily  to  love  you  why  don't  you 
wear  a  veil  ?  Why  don't  you  hide  your  dazzling  beauty,  your 
brilliant  mind,  your  high  accomplishments  within  a  convent?  Can 
you  blame  the  person  who,  warmed  and  cheered  by  the  genial  sun, 
ventures  to  raise  his  eyes  to  his  blending  glory  ?" 

"No,  Richard,  I  would  not  blame  him,  I  would  pity  him,  as  I 
pity  you  ;  for  his  wishes  would  be  as  unattainable  as  yours.  Heaven 
forbid  that  I  should  compare  my  humble  self  with  that  heavenly 
luminary  ;  but  you  choosed  the  figure  and  I  borrowed  it  for  conve 
nience  sake.  I  am  sorry  for  you,  Richard,  extremely  sorry,  and 
would  give  you  a  year  of  my  existence  to  restore  your  peace  of 
mind.  Requite  your  feelings  I  cannot,  and  feel  in  honor  and  in 
conscience  bound  to  tell  you  so  without  duplicity." 

He  sighed, — perhaps  the  sigh  was  no  longer  mere  acting,  for  it 
was  almost  impossible  to  see  this  glorious  creature  in  her  grand  re 
serve  and  not  become  impressed. 


DOLORES.  325 

"  Ah  !  Dolores  !  If  you  but  knew  how  much  more  lovely  your 
dignified  refusal  is  making  you  in  my  sight,  you  would  have 
choosen  a  different  mode  of  checking  the  ardor  of  my  soul.  Laugh 
at  me,  mock,  scorn  me,  tread  me  in  the  dust,  only  don't  wrap  your 
self  in  this  celestial  light,  which  pains  my  eyes  and  yet  lures  me  to 
destruction  like  the  moth  that  is  drawn  into  the  autodafe  of  the 
burning  taper." 

Dolores  rose  to  her  feet.     She  smiled  in  spite  of  herself. 

"Richard  you  are  too  flowery  in  your  speaking  for  one  that's 
just  going  to  die.  I  do  not  say  that  you  desire  to  deceive  me,  far 
be  it  from  me,  but  I  think  you  are  deceiving  yourself.  You  have 
only  seen  me  one  day  and  that  is  hardly  long  enough  to  conceive  so 
desperate  a  passion.  If  you  examine  your  feelings  a  little  more 
closely  you  will  find  that  they  contain  a  considerable  portion  of  that 
spontaneous  gallantry  for  which  you  seamen  are  noted.  Allow  me 
to  wish  you  a  very  pleasant  night." 

Drooping  a  deep  courtesy  she  was  on  the  point  of  leaving  the 
room,  when  Richard's  voice  once  more  stopped  her.  He  had  risen 
and  there  was  an  element  of  truthfulness  in  his  voice  when  he 
cried : 

' '  Dolores  !  Stop  !  for  heaven's  sake  stop  one  more  moment ! 
When  I  told  you  just  now  to  laugh  at  me  I  did  not  know  what  I 
was  asking.  Oh  !  if  you  could  know  how  every  one  of  your  gay 
words  pierced  my  heart  like  daggers,  you  surely  would  have  fore- 
borne.  Dolores  do  not  go  without  leaving  me  a  ray  of  light  to  illu 
minate  the  darkness  of  dispair.  I  know  that  I  have  been  too  pre 
sumptions  to  think  that  so  proud  a  fortress  as  your  virgin  heart 
would  surrender  on  the  first  summons.  I'll  have  patience ;  I'll  fol 
low  you  as  unobtrusively  as  your  shadow,  but  also  just  as  constantly. 
I'll  be  your  slave.  My  whole  life  shall  be  devoted  to  your  service, 
only  don't  turn  your  back  on  me ;  don't  with  one  single  word 
destroy  every  hope,  thus  dooming  me  to  the  lot  of  the  criminal 
who,  chained  in  a  subterrannean  dungeon,  is  doomed  to  pass  a  life 
without  the  genial  sun." 

Dolores  was  a  young  and  inexperienced  girl,  yet  a  certain  intui 
tion  enabled  her  to  distinguish  between  reality  and  acting.  She 
felt  that  deep  passion  binds  the  tongue  instead  of  loosening  it,  and 
even  the  most  gifted  mind  forgets  its  cunning  and  trembles  and 


326  DOLORES. 

stammers  in  the  presence  of  the  loved  one.  So,  although  she  did 
not  doubt  that  Richard  felt  something  of  the  feelings  he  profe ->«.•«!. 
she  was  convinced  that  he  was  guilty  of  over-drawing,  perhaps  in 
tentionally,  perhaps  unintentionally.  She  felt  as  though  she  ought 
to  check  this  game  at  once.  If  she  indulged  him,  that  pain  which 
she  now  thought  to  be  mere  pretension,  might  become  a  reality.  It 
would  not  do.  So,  turning  to  the  passionate  young  man,  she  said 
firmly,  though  with  kindness : 

"Richard,  you  ask  impossiblities.  To  smile  on  yon  would  be  to 
encourage  you,  and  that  I  cannot  do  conscientiously.  If  you  under 
stand  my  decision  to  be  irrevocable,  you  will  cease  to  waste  your 
best  strength  in  useless  efforts.  To  tune  encourage  you  and  then  at 
last  repel  your  homap^  would  be  the  conduct  of  a  coquette.  I  am  no 
coquette,  Richard,  and  although  I  now  may  hurt  your  feelings,  I 
mean  well.  Let  us  forget  what  passed  between  us  and  be  assured 
that,  if  I  cannot  listen  to  your  wishes  just  expressed,  I  shall  alway- 
be  to  you  a  true  and  faithful  sister. 

The  nod  with  which  she  left  the  room  had  nothing  of  the 
former  playfulness.  It  was  grave  and  sympathetic,  but  on  Richard 
it  had  the  same  effect.  He  could  hardly  wait  for  the  door  to  close 
upon  the  departing  form  to  burst  into  a  ringing  passion  and  to 
shake  his  fists  in  that  direction. 

"  Wait,  madam  !  "  he  cried.  "I'll  teach  you  manners  before  you 
are  many  days  older.  I'll  teach  you  to  spurn  a  man  without 
whose  assistance  you'll  always  remain  what  you  are  now,  a  begger 
girl.  Mock  princess  now,  your  proud  neck  will  gladly  stoop  as  soon 
as  you  learn  that  I  can  all  at  once  transform  you  into  a  rc<if  prin 
cess. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

AM>  in-:rni. 


Merrily  the  whip  in  Mr.  Burlesque's  hand  cracked  through  the 
morning  air  when  on  Sunday  morning  that  individual  returned 
from  the  depot  with  Charles  at  his  side.  It's  well  we  have  lately 


DOLORES.  327 

seen  a  photograph  of  that  gentleman  in  Dolores'  possession  or  we 
might  find  difficulty  in  recognizing  in  this  stately  form,  graced 
with  moustache  and  whiskers,  our  old  and  tried  friend  Charles. 
His  countenance  was  radient  with  expectation  ;  but  wrhile  Burles 
que  kept  up  a  constant  stream  of  talk,  half  comical  and  half  in 
earnest,  Charles  only  gave  the  shortest  and  most  inevitable  answers 
and  even  then  in  the  most  confused  manner,  so  as  to  demonstrate 
to  a  certainty  that  his  mind  was  absent,  shooting  far  ahead  of  the 
nimble  feet  of  old  Browny,  who  had  greeted  his  former  master 
with  a  neigh  and  now  tried  hard  to  win  his  approbation  by  his 
speed.  Yet,  Charles'  thoughts  were  faster  than  the  horse,  as  we 
have  seen,  and  when  they  arrived  at  the  gate  his  thoughts  had 
been  there.  On  jumping  down,  Charles  found  himself  in  the  em 
brace  of  a  youth,  who  was  no  one  but  his  brother  Henry,  and  yet 
he  somehow,  without  knowing  why,  had  hardly  counted  on  such  a 
warm  reception.  But  there  he  was,  and  if  the  thought  of  a  mistake 
had  still  clung  to  Charles  the  other's  address  set  every  doubt  aside. 

"  Why,  Charlie,  how  you  stare  ;  don't  you  know  your  brother  ?" 

' '  I  thought  you  were  Henry,  only — 

"Only  you  had  hardly  expected  such  a  hearty  welcome  from 
his  lips.  Why,  Charlie,  it  is  not  fair  to  charge  the  man  with  the 
folly  of  the  boy." 

"  God  forbid  I  should,  Henry.  Nobody  can  rejoice  more  than 
I  at  the  thought  that  the  disagreeable  jarrings  between  us  will  be  no 
more.  You  know  I  never  meant  you  harm,  Henry." 

"  Yes,  Charlie,  I  know  now.  But  there  is  mother  scolding  me 
within  her  heart  for  keeping  you  away  from  her  embrace.  Go  up 
at  once  and  I  will  come  up  afterwards." 

A  moment  later  Charles  lay  in  his  mother's  arms.  Then  -his 
father  came  in  for  his  share. 

"Now,  you  are  mine  again,"  Mrs.  Fuchs  said,  after  the  first 
exchange  of  salutations.  "My  pleasure  at  seeing  you  will  no 
longer  be  embittered  by  the  thought  of  loosing  you  again." 

"But,  mother,  lam  even  now  meditating  on  the  thought  of 
leaving  you  again." 

His  smile  assured  her  of  the  harmlessness  of  his  intentions.  She 
thought  she  knew  what  he  alluded  to. 

"You  are,  you  wicked  boy,"  she  answered  with  that  roguish 


328  DOLORES. 

plainness  so  peculiar  to  her.  "That  is  a  mother's  fate  all  the 
world  over.  Hardly  weaned,  you  youngsters  desert  her  and  run 
after  the  apron-strings  of  some  blue-eyed  girl  with  rosy  cheeks  and 
dimples." 

Charles  blushed  and  thereby  proved  the  correctness  of  her  sup 
position.  Mr.  Fuchs  also'  began  to  see. 

"  Ah  !  the  wind  blows  from  that  direction,  does  it  ?"  he  asked. 

"Of  course,  Conrad,  didn't  you  see  it?  If  we  force  him  to 
squint  at  the  mansion  much  longer  we'll  have  him  cross-eyed  before 
night." 

Mr.  Fuchs  laughed.  He  enjoyed  a  joke  as  much  as  anyone  on 
festive  occasions  and  his  son's  return  was  a  festival  of  the  first 
magnitude. 

"  W  e  cannot  load  such  dreadful  risk  upon  our  conscience,  can 
we  mother  ?"  he  said. 

Charles  fell  from  one  confusion  into  another.  It  is  a  good  sign 
to  see  a  young  man  of  twenty-one  blush.  Some  have  forgotten 
how  at  the  age  of  fifteen.  He  tried  to  laugh  it  all  away,  but  laugh 
ing  made  it  worse  rather  than  better,  for  before  he  knew  it  they 
all  joined  him  and  were  enjoying  their  merriment  at  his  expense. 

At  last  his  another  had  mercy  on  him.  Taking  his  hand  and 
fondling  it,  she  said  : 

"Now,  father,  leave  my  boy  alone,  will  you.  We  have  seen 
him  but  once  every  year  and  a  certain  young  lady  has  been  obliged 
to  forego  that  pleasure  for  more  than  three  years.  Go,  my  son, 
and  -follow  the  dictates  of  your  heart.  We  do  not  blame  you  for 
obeying  its  instincts.  Only  don't  stay  too  long,  and  bring  ourDol 
along,  that  we  may  bless  her  and  feast  our  eyes  upon  a  sight  which 
realizes  the  ardent  wishes  of  our  hearts." 

"Oh,  mother,  you  are  the  best  of  women!  You  need  never 
fear  that  she'll  dispute  with  you  for  a  place  in  my  heart." 

'  *  I  know,  Charles  ;  but  tell  us  before  you  go,  were  you  success 
ful  in  the  contest?" 

The  f©rm  of  the  young  man  seemed  to  grow.  A  fire  of  pride 
and  conscious  strength  kindling  in  his  eye,  he  said  : 

"  Yes,  mother,  and  I'm  going  to  lay  the  first  prize  at  Dolores' 
feet." 

"  I  knew  it ! "  his  mother  said,  her  voice  echoing  his  triumph. 


DOLORES.  329 

"But,  Charlie,  you'll  give  but  to  receive.  Dolores  is  fully  your 
equal.  She,  too,  out-distanced  all  competition." 

"  You  tell  me  nothing  new,  mother.  I  saw  it  in  the  girl  the 
first  day  she  paid  a  visit  to  our  house.  But  will  you  really  pardon 
me  for  leaving  you  for  half  an  hour  ?  " 

"  For  double  that  time,  Charlie,  and  with  all  my  heart.  But 
don't  forget  this  condition,  you  must  indemnify  us  for  our  loss  of 
time  by  returning  with  Dolores." 

Charles  was  in  danger  of  becoming  the  prey  to  second  confusion 
and  only  escaped  it  by  running  from  the  room.  In  the  hall  he 
took  his  hat  and  clearing  the  steps  of  the  porch  with  one  spring  he 
was  on  the  point  of  passing  through  the  gate,  when  Henry's  voice 
stopped  him  :  , 

"  Charlie,  indulge  me  just  a  moment.  I  want  to  talk  to  you  on 
matters  of  importance." 

"  Exactly,  Henry,  I  am  at  your  service,  that  is  if  you  will  just 
consent  to  postpone  the  discussion  till  this  afternoon.  If  your  af 
fairs  are  important  others  still  more  important  demand  my  presence 
at  the  mansion." 

Henry  shook  his  head  and  looked  at  Charles  with  such  a  queer 
expression  that  the  young  man  started. 

"  I  knew  the  object  of  your  errand,  Charlie,  and  if  I  tell  you 
that  my  communication  directly  bears  upon  it  will  you  then  vouch 
safe  me  a  short  interview  ?" 

Charles  evidently  was  far  from  understanding  his  brother  yet  ; 
but  a  vague  fear  arose  in  his  heart  that  threatened  to  suffocate  him. 

"  You  want  to  tell  me  something  about  Dolores?" 

Henry  nodded.  Charlie's  eyes  kindled.  Setting  his  teeth  to 
gether,  he  said  : 

"  Henry,  beware  !  I  am  very  touchy  on  that  point,  and  the 
slightest  abuse  of  her  I  worship  might  put  at  jeopardy  the  relation 
which  has  begun  under  such  good  auspices." 

Henry  nodded  like  a  man  that  has  well  and  carefully  considered 
the  consequences  of  his  actions. 

"  I  know,  Charlie,  I  know  how  unpleasant  is  the  office  of  the 
person  who  advises  us  for  our  best  interests  against  our  inclination. 
The  surgeon's  knife  which  precedes  the  process  of  healing  is  even 
more  painful  than  salutary," 


330  DOLORES. 

» 

Charles  chafed  under  his  brother's  remark,  like  the  steed  that 
strikes  the  ground  with  a  restive  foot ;  but  Henry  had  so  well  se 
cured  his  hold  that  all  his  brother's  efforts  to  get  loose  were  idle. 
He  saw  it,  and  from  that  moment  felt  sure  of  victory. 

' '  Henry,  if  you  had  no  other  object  than  to  entertain  me  with 
stale  similes  and  well  established  axioms — 

"  Xo,  Charlie,  you  know  that  is  not  my  object.  It  is  so  pain 
ful,  though,  to  hurt  the  feelings  of  those  we  love." 

"  I  absolve  you  from  all  delicacy,  Henry,  on  condition  that  you 
hurry  on  with  this  affair.  What  have  you  to  tell  me.  Speak  !" 

So  pressed  Henry  saw  no  evasion.  Taking  his  brother's  arm 
and  walking  in  the  direction  of  the  factory,  he  said  : 

"  Charles,  tell  me  truly,  do  you  go  to  the  mansion  with  the  pur 
pose  of  offering  yourself  as  a  wooer  to  Dolores  ?  I  do  not  ask  from 
idle  curiosity." 

"Yes,  sir,  I  do.  There  is  no  need  of  hiding  the  existence  of  a 
feeling  which  constitutes  the  pride  of  my  life." 

"  I  thought  so, "  Henry  said  with  a  sigh.  "  But  have  you  ever, 
by  word  or  letter,  exchanged  any  vows  of  love?" 

"You  are  inquisitive.  But  I  shall  construe  your  curosity  as 
dictated  by  the  feelings  you  profess.  My  answer  is,  no,  sir ;  we 
have  never  spoken  or  written  about  love  to  one  another  and  the 
whole  rich  treasure  of  delight  is  still  in  store  for  us." 

"But,  Charles,"  Henry  said,  stoping  and  taking  his 
brother  by  the  arm,  "has  it  ever  struck  you  that  there  is  a  bare 
possibility  of  your  feelings  Deing  unrequited  ?" 

If  Charles  had  been  turned  into  a  statue  he  could  not  have  been 
more  immovable  than  he  was  for  the  period  of  five  minutes.  Only 
by  degrees  his  dumbness  seemed  to  leave  him,  and  at  last  he  was 
able  to  utter : 

"Henry,  this  question  has  a  meaning.  Recollect  what  I  told 
you  of  the  risk  you  run.  Do  you  know  anything  to  the  contrary  ?" 

"Before  I  answer  your  reply,  I  would  simply  state  that  I  am 
no  informer.  If  any  act  of  Dolores,  by  which  she  may  have  given 
away  her  heart  to  anybody  else,  casts  a  reflection  on  her  character, 
I  have  no  more  to  say." 

"Don't  worry  me  to  death  by  your  evasions,  Henry.     I  never 


DOLORES.  331 

said  or  did  anything  which  would  have  made  it  wrong  in  her  to 
love  somebody  else.    Now  go  on  !  go  on !" 

"Your  statement  relieves  me,  Charlie.  I  am  now  free  to  give 
the  reasons  that  make  me  think  that  Dolores  looks  at  you  in  the 
light  of  a  dear  friend,  but  nothing  more.  Richard  has  intimated 
to  me 

-Henry!" 

This  word,  pronounced  with  virtuous  indignation,  brought  the 
calumniator  to  a  stop. 

' '  Do  you  think  the  sayso  of  a  fool  and  knave  sufficient  grounds 
to  weaken  my  faith  in  the  purity  of  a  girl  like  Dolores  ?" 

"  I  do  not,  Charlie,  and  if  you  will  allow  me  to  proceed  I  shall 
be  able  to  convince  you.  On  what  ground  you  bestow  those  flatter 
ing  epithets  on  Richard,  however,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  comprehend. 
His  statement  alone,  I  say,  would  not  have  induced  me  to  seek 
this  interview.  But  if  it  is  sustained  by  testimony  from  the  lady's 
own  hand,  it  is  certainly  worthy  of  some  consideration." 

"You  understand  how  to  apply  all  the  means  of  a  slow  tor 
ture." 

"No,  Charlie.  lam  nearly  through.  The  other  day,  when  I 
entered  the  park  for  the  puipose  of  paying  a  visit  to  the  family, 
I  saw  a  piece  of  paper  slowly  fluttering  from  the  upper  story,  which, 
after  numerous  evolutions  and  somersaults,  alighted  at  my  feet. 
Influenced  by  an  almost  unconscious  curiosity,  I  picked  up  the 
paper  and  surely  would  have  thrown  it  away  as  fast  as  I  had  seized 
it  if  I  had  not  recognized  Dolores'  handwriting.  Mother  had 
shown  me  several  letters  of  hers,  and  there  is  so  much  attraction 
in  the  beautiful  handwriting  and  the  more  beautiful  thoughts  of 
those  letters  that  I  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of  scanning  the 
lines  in  my  hand.  If  I  did  wrong  the  supposition  that  a  paper  so 
carelessly  abandoned  could  not  contain  a  secret  must  be  my  ex 
cuse." 

"And  this  paper — you  have  it  yet  ?" 

The  powerful  emotion  which,  though  suppressed,  trembled  in 
every  word  of  this  question,  awakened  in  Henry's  mind  the  con 
sciousness  of  the  great  danger  to  which  he  had  exposed  himself. 
His  position  was  similar  to  that  of  the  man  who  shares  the  lion's 


332  DOLORES. 

cage  and  knows  that  his  safety  depends  on  his  assurance — a  single 
stap  back  and  the  lion  will  tear  him  to  pieces. 

"  Yes,  Charles,  I  have  it  yet.  I  kept  it  for  the  purpose  of  show 
ing  it  to  you.  I  somehow  had  an  intuitive  perception  that  things 
would  just  come  about  as  they  have  done,  and,  much  as  I  loathed 
the  thought  of  paining  you,  I  preferred  it  to  the  other  of  seeing 
you  the  subject  of  humiliating  ridicule  or  even  deception." 

' '  The  paper !  the  paper !" 

Henry  took  a  portfolio  from  his  pocket  and  from  it  drew  a  paper, 
which  he  handed  to  his  brother.  Charles  at  once  recognized  the 
handwriting  of  her  that  was  so  dear  to  him.  His  eyes  swam,  and 
it  took  some  minutes  before  he  was  steady  enough  to  read.  He 
proceeded,  and  it  was  a  painful  sight  to  witness  the  perusal.  Henry, 
hypocrite  that  he  was,  took  care  to  look  in  another  direction  while 
his  brother  was  thus  engaged.  The  paper  ran  : 

*  *  *  Very  likely  the  last  letter  I'll  ever  get  from  him..  One 
more  week  and  I  shall  have  ceased  to  be  the  happy  school-girl  to  en 
ter  into  a  state  not  less  laborious  and  even  more  responsible.  One 
more  week  to  prepare  for  the  contest !  I  ought  to  concentrate  my 
thoughts  upon  my  studies  ;  but  I  cannot  do  it.  However  much  I 
struggle  to  retain  them  here  they  constantly  fly  to  my  native  home 
and  to  the  dear  faces  I  shall  there  meet  again. 

There  is  a  picture  of  Charles  in  the  letter,  a  splendid  photograph. 
He  wears  a  mustache  now  and  handsome  whiskers,  and  I  was  so 
much  engaged  with  looking  at  the  picture  that  I  didn't  notice  how 
one  of  the  girls  came  up  behind  and,  gazing  over  my  shoulders,  saw 
the  picture.  I  started  like  a  thief  detected  in  the  act  of  stealing, 
when  she  clapped  her  hands  and,  with  a  merry  laugh,  exclaimed  : 

41  A  man  !  a  man  !  Our  Lady  Perfect  has  the  picture  of  a  man  ! 
He  is  handsome  tho'  and  I  will  keep  mum  if  you  will  on  the  spot 
confess  who  he  is  and  whether  you  love  him  very  much  ?" 

I  felt  a  burning  in  my  face — of  indignation,  I  think  it  was,  at 
her  indiscretion.  Without  deigning  to  answer  a  word  to  her  ques 
tion  I  turned  abruptly  and  sought  my  chamber.  There,  however, 
her  question  haunts  me  all  the  time.  Do  I  love  him  ?  No,  I  love 
him  not 

That  was  all !  But  it  was  enough.  No,  I  love  him  not !  Those 
words  sounded  in  his  ears,  they  echoed  through  his  brain  ;  they 
sounded  like  the  sentence  with  which  the  judge  condemns  the 
criminal  after  the  jury  have  found  him  guilty.  It  is  hard  to  tell 
how  long  Charles  would  have  stood  there  on  the  road  staring  at  the 
unfortunate  paper  if  Henry  had  not  reminded  him  of  the  neces 
sity  of  preserving  the  necessary  composure  before  the  people,  wha 
began  to  flock  to  church. 


DOLORES.  333 

"  Come,  Charlie,  bear  it  like  a  man,"  he  said,  and  would  have 
continued  his  consolations  if  an  impatient  gesture  of  his  brother 
had  not  stopped  him. 

"I  know  what  you  would  say,  and  'tis  well  enough.  Yes,  I 
am  indebted  to  you  for  opening  my  eyes  just  in  due  time  to  save 
me  from  making  a  fool  of  myself.  If  I  had  known  this  before  my 
arrival  I  should  have  invented  an  excuse  for  prolonging  my  ab 
sence.  As  it  is,  I  told  mother  that  I  would  go  and  see  her.  Very 
well,  I'll  do  just  as  I  told  her.  Why  shouldn't  I  ?  This  egre 
gious  conceit  of  mine  deserves  a  punishment.  Moreover  I  must 
confess  that  I  am  curious  to  see  what  happiness  she  enjoys  as  the 
betrothed  of  such  a  fellow  !" 

He  spoke  with  so  much  bitterness  that  Henry  thought  best  to 
keep  his  peace.  He  was  glad  when  they  reached  the  cottage,  for 
he  felt  very  much  like  ridding  himself  of  the  company  of  his  vic 
tim.  After  reaching  his  hand  to  the  parting  brother  he  walked  up 
stairs  to  hoist  another  streamer. 

"So!"  he  muttered,  "my  task  is  done,  Mr.  Dick,  and  yours 
begins.  If  you  do  your  part  as  well  as  I  did  mine,  success  cannot 
be  wanting.  But  if  you  fail — and  that  is  very  likely,  for,  I  tell 
you,  'tis  hard  to  bamboozle  him  any  length  of  time — if  "you  fail,  I 
say,  I  shall  escape  the  penalty  of  my  offense  by  making  you  the 
scapegoat.  You  must  not  think,  Mr.  Dick,  that  I  am  the  cat 
which  hauls  the  chestnut  •  from  the  fire  for  you  ;  not  I.  Indeed  I 
think  Charles  wasn't  so  very  wrong  by  calling  him  a  fool — a  fool 
and  a — well,  Henry,  don't  you  be  calling  names.  One  or  the  other 
might  keep  sticking  to  you  by  mistake.  He  must  be  there  now, 
pretty  nearly,  and  this  child  is  too  smart  for  you  to  step  into  his 
way  on  coming  home.  I'll  take  the  hook  and  line  and  try  my  luck 
at  fishing." 

But  let  us  now  return  to  Charles  and  anticipate  his  arrival  at 
the  mansion  a  few  minutes. 

Over  the  mansion  the  Sunday  had  broke  as  gloriously  as  over 
the  cottage,  and  when  dark  clouds  were  aleeady  gathering  over  the 
latter  sunshine  was  still  shedding  its  pleasant  glow  upon  the  former. 
At  breakfast  the  question  of  going  to  church  had  been  raised,  and 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fox  had  declared  their  intention  of  attending  service 
and  wralking  the  short  distance,  in  order  to  allow  John  the  chance 


334  DOLORES. 

of  a  holiday.  On  hearing  this  determination  Richard  at  once  vol 
unteered  his  company,  because  he  wished  that  Dolores  should  stay 
at  home,  and  felt  convinced  that  this  would  not  happen  unless  she 
could  do  so  without  the  prospect  of  being  unmolested  by  his  im 
portunities.  True,  he  had  abstained  from  annoying  her  ;  but  he 
had  not  always  been  so  successful  in  governing  his  looks  as  his 
words,  and  the  conduct  of  Dolores  had  plainly  shown  that  she 
deemed  it  necessary  to  be  on  the  guard.  Generally  Dolores  was 
quick  in  joining  any  company  like  that  proposed  ;  but  this  time 
she  pleaded  an  unprepared  state  of  mind  as  an  excuse  for  remain 
ing  at  home.  Lucy  had  received  her  instructions  from  her  brother 
and,  of  course,  announced  her  purpose  of  going  with  her  parents. 
Thus  Dolores  was  to  remain  alone,  and  when  the  church-party  had 
left  the  premises  and  disappeared  behind  the  bushes  of  the  park, 
she  felt  a  secret  pleasure  at  being  by  herself.  No  doubt  her 
thoughts  wandered  to  the  friend  who,  by  this  time,  had  not  only 
reached  the  cottage,  but  might  be  even  on  the  way  to  the  mansion 
if  his  longing  for  a  reunion  was  only  half  as  ardent  as  her  own. 
Perhaps  the  knowledge  of  that  fact  had  had  much  to  do  with  her 
remaining  home  from  church,  though,  when  she  asserted  that  she 
was  not  ift  a  proper  mood  for  devotional  exercises,  she  certainly 
told  the  truth. 

Dolores  tried  to  read,  but  her  eyes  and  mind  both  refused  to 
perform  their  ordinary  task.  The  air  was  so  close,  so  oppressive  in 
the  house,  that  she  felt  the  necessity  of  seeking  the  open  air.  Tak 
ing  her  shawl  and  straw  hat  she  descended  to  the-  portico  and  thence 
into  the  park.  There  she  felt  better,  and  with  every  new  step  her 
composure  became  more  complete.  She  felt  happy  in  the  morning 
air  in  the  consciousness  of  her  beloved  one's  close  proximity.  After 
strolling  a  while  she  came  to  the  seat  where  several  important  mo 
ments  of  her  life  had  shaped  themselves.  Would  it  exercise  a 
salutary  influence  upon  her  destiny  to-day  ?  Could  fate  vouchsafe 
to  her  the  happiness  of  receiving  just  there  the  friend  that  filled 
her  heart  to  the  exclusion  of  every  other  feeling  ?  She  trembled 
at  the  mere  thought  of  go  much  happiness.  Poor  child  !  why  not 
rather  tremble  at  the  peril  so  much  more  real  and  near  ?  You  do 
not  know  that  Richard,  on  some  pretence  or  other,  has  retraced 
his  steps,  and,  having  climbed  the  fence  of  the  park,  is  now  oon- 


DOLORES.  335 

cealed  in  your  neighborhood,  ready  to  break  in  upon  your  peace 
as  soon  as  the  appearance  of  his  adversary  gives  the  signal !  You 
do  not  know  that  everything  combines  to  make  the  plot  of  the 
conspirators  successful ;  you  do  not  know  that,  on  seeing  the  im 
punity  with  which  they  act,  a  doubt  arises  in  the  mind  of  a  neu 
tral  spectator  whether  there  is  a  ruling  providence  or  not.  Poor 
child  !  of  all  thte  you  are  ignorant,  and  yet  the  storm  is  about  to 
burst  upon  your  devoted  head. 

The  garden  gate  has  creaked  ;  but  she  is  too  much  absorbed  in 
thought  to  hear  it.  Richard,  however,  has  noticed  it — his  senses 
are  impaired  by  passion.  From  his  hiding-place  he  sees  a  form 
passing  through  the  bushes,  though  not  "with  the  eager  step  of  the 
lover  that  goes  to  meet  the  mistress  of  his  heart  after  an  absence 
of  years.  If  it  is  Charles,  Henry  must  have  been  at  work  and 
considerably  dampened  his  spirit.  So  much  the  better ;  his  task 
will  be  comparatively  easy  then.  Now  he  sees  the  features  of  the 
visitor  through  an  opening — it  is  Charles.  He  goes  to  the  house  ; 
he  rings  the  bell;  Susan  opens  and  points  to  the  park.  He  comes 
down  the  steps  and,  walking  towards  the  seat,  occupied  by  Dolores, 
approaches  rapidly.  As  yet  he  has  not  seen  her,  nor  she  him,  but 
she  seems  to  feel  his  presence,  for  she  is  getting  restless — now  is 
the  time.  Kneeling  before  her  in  theatrical  fashion  he  cries  : 
"Dolores!" 

A  low  scream  from  her  lips  betrays  her  surprise  at  seeing  at 
her  feet  a  person  whom  she  thinks  far  away  ;  but  Dolores  is  not 
apt  to  remain  the  prey  of  any  involuntary  emotion,  and  she  is  on 
the  point  of  rising  and  repelling  the  boldness  of  the  intruder, 
when — listen !  a  step  approaches ;  behold!  a  face  appears  through 
the  foliage.  It  is  Charles  !  It  is  Charles,  and  so  strong  is  her 
emotion  that  for  the  first  tim.»  in  her  life  she  loses  the  control  of 
her  body.  Yet  her  soul  flies  out  to  meet  him  ;  she  totally  forgets 
the  kneeling  figure  at  her  feet ;  she  does  not  feel  how  he  takes  her 
hand  ;  she  does  not  hear  the  stream  of  burning  passion  that  he 
pours  into  her  ear.  Her  eye  is  riveted  upon  the  approaching- 
friend  ;  but  what  is  that  ?  Is  this  face  indicative  of  the  rapture 
she  is  feeling  ?  What  does  that  melancholy  expression  signify  ? 
Why  is  his  step  so  slow  ?  Now  the  sadness  vanishes  ;  but  it  is  not 
joy  that  takes  his  place.  His  face  grows  stern  and  rigid  ;  his  eye 


336  DOLORES. 

does  not  even  dwell  on  her  ;  it  seeks  the  ground,  some  object  at 
her  feet.  Merciful  heavens!  the  whole  reality  at  once  presents 
itself  unto  her  mind.  She  sees  him  now  that  kneels  before  her  ; 
she  feels  her  hands  engaged,  and  that,  too,  with  a  grip  which  baf 
fles  her  efforts  to  disengage  it ;  she  hears  the  words  he  still  is  pour 
ing  forth. 

"  Light  of  my  soul !  I  bless  the  day  that  gave  you  birth,  Do 
lores,  queen  of  my  heart ! ' ' 

The  immovable  form  across  the  way  hears  them,  too.  His  rigid 
features  relax  and  a  bitter  smile  of  contempt  flits  over  them.  He 
turns  ;  he  does  not,  cannot  mean  to  leave  her  simply  because  a  pol 
troon,  a  miserable  creature  of  a  man,  has  dared  to  benefit  by  the 
commotion  into  wThich  the  very  presence  of  the  other  has  thrown 
her.  He  tunis,  he  goes ! 

"Charlie!" 

A  world  of  expression  lies  in  that  one,  that  single  cry  ;  but 
Charles  heeds  it  not.  He  does  not  even  turn,  a  repelling  motion 
of  his  hand  is  all  his  answer.  It  rather  quickens  his  retreat,  and 
she  sees  him  hastening  from  the  grounds  as  if  the  furies  drove 
him  off. 

He  is  gone  !  but  the  wretch,  whose  work  this  is,  still  holds  her 
hand,  still  kneels  before  her.  Ha !  that  is  more  than  she  can  bear. 
For  once  her  wrath  throws  off  the  rigid  control  under  which  the 
passioned  impulses  of  her  soul  are  generally  kept.  She  feels  as  if 
she  could  raise  her  foot  and  crush  him  under  her  heel  as  she  would 
crush  a  spider.  Now  she  is  strong  enough  to  free  her  hand.  A 
sudden  jerk  and  she  is  loose  from  him.  Her  eye  flashes  with  a 
fire  that  makes  him  drop  his  face. 

"Wretch  !  miserable  wretch  !  am  I  sunk  so  low  as  to  become 
the  sport  of  your  whims  ?  How  can  you  dare  to  offend  my  ears  a 
second  time  with  words  so  full  of  loathing  ?  Begone !  begone  I 
say,  or  I  shall  whip  you  from  my  presence  like  a  dog  !" 

How  he  shrinks  under  these  scathing  words  ;  how  he  rises  and 
sneaks  away.  He  is  gone,  but  full  five  minutes  elapse  before  life 
returns  unto  the  form  that  stands  with  lifted  hands  and  flashing 
eyes,  like  an  fti spirited  statue  of  Nemesis.  Alas,  the  flash  of  wrath 
ha£  not  only  hit  the  offender — like  a  two-edged  sword,  it  has  pene 
trated  her  own  heart  as  well.  She  is  angry  with  the  despicable 


DOLORES.  337 

intruder,  but  she  is  more  angry  with  herself  for  granting  him  the 
spectacle  of  her  weakness.  She  is  also  angry  with  the  fugitive, 
more  angry  than  she  ever  thought  she  could  be  at  him.  What ! 
has  he  so  little  faith  in  her  to  condemn  her  on  appearances  so  tri 
fling  ?  Has  he  no  more  respect  for  her  character  and  taste  than 
to  entertain  the  supposition  that  she  could  lower  herself  to  one 
like  Kichard  ?  The  more  she  thinks  of  it,  the  more  his  flight  as 
sumes  the  aspect  of  an  insult,  and  in  her  first  keen  indignation  she 
makes  the  vow  of  doing  nothing  on  her  part  to  rectify  the  error. 
If  he  thinks  her  so  low  and  indiscreet  as  to  be  capable  of  throwing 
herself  on  the  neck  of  a  Kichard — well,  let  it  be  so.  In  case  of  a 
voluntary  return  and  confession  of  his  fault  she  might  endeavor  to 
forgive  him  ;  else — never. 

We  see  Dolores  can  be  proud  as  well  as  Charles.  Indeed  a 
person  of  character  can  hardly  be  imagined  without  pride.  Pride 
is  the  support  which  upholds  a  noble  soul  in  its  position  and  guards 
it  from  becoming  polluted  by  all  that's  low  and  mean.  Dolores 
was  proud  and  her  pride  upheld  her  in  the  severest  trial  of  her 
life.  No  tear  moistened  her  eyes ;  keeping  the  solitude  of  her 
room,  she  paced  the  floor  for  hours.  Nobody  did  see  her  do  it ; 
her  door  was  locked,  and  all  day  long  nobody  was  allowed  to  enter, 
but  they  heard  the  hurried,  heavy  step  in  spite  of  the  carpet.  At 
times  that  noise  would  cease  and  then  no  sign  of  life  was  percepti 
ble  in  the  room.  Dolores  did  not  appear  at  either  dinner  or  sup 
per,  and  all  questions  as  to  whether  she  wanted  food  to  be  taken 
to  her  room  were  answered  in  the  negative.  She  was  not  hungry, 
she  said,  but  suffering  with  a  sick  headache  ;  she  wished  to  be  left 
alone.  If  her  parents  had  known  the  true  state  of  affairs  they 
might  have  felt  more  alarmed  and  insisted  upon  admittance  to  offer 
sympathy  and  consolation  ;  but,  as  Richard,  after  his  rude  dismis 
sal,  had  hastened  to  show  himself  in  church,  and,  as  he  took  good 
care  not  to  furnish  his  parents  a  clue  to  the  strange  conduct  of  the 
girl,  they  acquiesced  in  her  refusal  to  grant  admittance  to  her 
room,  thinking  that  it  might  really  be  a  sick  spell  and  that  Dolores, 
as  a  considerate  girl,  wanted  to  spare  them  the  sight  of  any  fretful- 
ness  engendered  by  her  indisposition.  So  the  poor  girl  had  to  fight 
the  first  stormy  battle  with  her  heart  all  alone.  She  had  to  strug 
gle  with  the  passion  which  can  either  bestow  upon  us  the  bliss  of 

22 


338  DOLORES. 

angels  or  the  anguish  of  the  doomed.  Her's  was  the  latter  destiny. 
The  cup  of  sorrow  was  full  to  the  brim  and  she  refused  to  touch  it 
with  all  the  pride  and  energy  of  her  soul.  But  the  struggle  was  in 
vain.  As  hour  after  hour  passed  on  her  energy  began  to  fail,  her 
pride  sank  with  it,  and  then  her  head  bowed  down,  her  hands  raised 
the  cup  and  her  lips  drew  in  the  bitter  draught  until  it  was  drained 
to  the  dregs.  Then  came  the  anguish  and  woe  ;  the  doubt  of  a 
ruling  providence  ;  the  despair  of  ever  trusting  human  hearts  again  ; 
the  utter  vanity  of  life  and  light  and  sunshine. 

Night  set  in,  but  not  the  end  of  Dolores'  suffering.  No  sleep 
came  to  her  that  night,  and  only  when  the  sun  rose  the  next  morn 
ing,  inaugurating  another  day,  Dolores  thought  that  she  had  con 
quered  and  could  venture  to  show  her  face  to  the  others. 

She  made  her  appearance  at  the  breakfast  table  with  her  usual 
smile,  but  her  face  showed  such  a  deadly  palor  that  both  her  par 
ents  were  frightened.  They  knew,  however,  that  Dolores  would 
dislike  to  be  annoyed  by  any  signs  of  their  alarm  and  therefore 
abstained  from  asking  questions  ;  but  when  breakfast  was  over  Mr. 
Fox  took  his  hat  and  that  of  his  foster-child  and  putting  it  upon 
her  head  and  tying  it  with  his  own  hands,  he  said  to  her  : 

"  Come,  Dol,  you  and  I  will  have  a  walk.  It  will  do  you  good 
after  your  sick  spell." 

And  Dolores,  who  had  thought  herself  proof  against  all  tribula 
tion,  was  so  touched  by  his  act  and  words  of  kindness,  that  the  clear 
tears  came  at  once  to  her  eyes  and  made  them  swim.  She  thought 
she  had  buried  her  heart  with  all  its  woe,  but,  alas  !  the  human 
heart  is  a  strange  enigma.  Some  say  that  it  may  break  and  I  am 
not  inclined  to  dispute  the  assertion.  But  this  I  know,  it  is  ex 
tremely  hard  to  bury  it  and  ignore  its  feelings.  Bury  it  as  much 
as  you  please  but  it  will  come  forth  from  the  ground  and  bear  fruit 
with  wonderful  rapidity.  It  may  be  wormwood  and  bitterness  that 
grow  on  them,  but  live  it  will  and  any  attempts  to  deaden  it  will 
only  increase  its  vitality. 

So  in  Dolores'  case.  She  did  not  refuse  nor  did  she  consent, 
but  suffering  herself  to  be  led  into  the  park  she  showed  the  restless 
ness  and  indifference  of  a  little  child.  But  the  park  did  not  give 
sufficient  scope,  Mr.  Fox  thought,  for  a  good  fatiguing  walk,  and 
such  a  one  he  wanted.  Therefore,  he  passed  the  gate  with  her  and 


DOLORES.  339 

turning  to  the  right  manifested  his  intention  of  passing  the  cottage. 
Then  Dolores  showed  signs  of  life. 

"  No,  pa,  not  that  way  !  not  that  way  !"  she  said  with  such  a 
feverish  haste  that  he  was  more  seriously  alarmed  than  before.  He 
stopped,  and  taking  her  head  between  his  hands  looked  searchingly 
into  her  eyes.  The  same  phenomenon  !  They  filled  with  tears  in 
less  than  a  second,  and  this  time  the  bitter  drops  welled  up  so 
strong  that  they  passed  the  brim  and  trickled  down  her  cheeks. 

"Child,  my  dear,  good  child,  what  is  the  matter?"  Mr.  Fox 
said  in  a  voice  that  plainly  showed  his  great  alarm.  "Is  it  not 
sickness  that  ails  you  ?  Has  anybody  dared  to  harm  you  ?  Dol, 
let  your  father  know,  and  rest  assured  that  you  have  all  his  sympa 
thy  if  not  his  help,  for  that  may  not  avail  you  anything." 

Dolores  shook  her  head,  but  Mr.  Fox  persisted  in  his  efforts. 

"  If  you  refuse  to  go  that  way,  Dol,  have  you  any  objections  to 
the  opposite  direction  ?  You  have  not  ?  Well,  let  us  go  toward 
the  coast,  then  ;  one  way  answers  me  as  well  as  another.  Perhaps 
the  sight  of  the  ocean  will  widen  your  heart  and  induce  you  to  con 
fide  your  secret  to  your  father." 

He  led  her  on  in  silence  until  they  had  passed  the  village  and 
the  bay  and  the  distant  sea  burst  into  view.  The  sight  of  the  ma 
jestic  ocean  has  indeed  some  soothing  element  within  it  and  Dolores 
felt  it.  A  deep  sigh  rung  itself  from  her  oppressed  bosom  and  she 
leaned  more  trustingly  upon  her  guide.  Mr.  Fox  pressed  her  to 
his  heart. 

"That  is  right,  Dol,"  he  said  with  a  low  and  gentle  tone.  "  I 
construe  your  caresses  as  an  indication  of  your  wish  to  unburden 
your  heart.  Am  I  right?" 

She  nodded. 

"  Perhaps,  Dol,  I  can  facilitate  the  matter  by  meeting  you  half 
way.  Tell  me,  has  not  the  arrival  of  Charlie  Fiichs  something  to 
do  with  your  distress?" 

He  felt  her  body  shrink  in  his  embrace.  So  he  had  guessed  the 
truth. 

"You  see  I  was  correct,"  he  said  somewhat  gayly.  "That  is 
because  I  sympathize  with  you  and  comprehend  you  better  than 
the  rest.  Now,  make  a  clean  breast  of  it,  Dol,  and  let  me  know 
the  whole  story.  Perhaps  1  may  help  you  after  all." 


340  DOLORES. 

She  shook  her  head  and  looked  sad,  but  struggled  no  longer 
and  she  gave  him  a  sketch  of  yesterday's  events.  To  do  her  justice 
she  passed  over  Richard's  offense  as  lightly  as  possible  and  abstain 
ed  even  from  making  commentaries  on  Charles'  conduct.  When 
she  was  through  Mr.  Fox  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"Well,  Dol,"  he  said,  "  that  is  a  sad  story,  no  doubt,  and  I 
can  imagine  what  you  must  have  suffered  yesterday.  But,  then, 
the  case  is  by  no  means  hopeless  and  if  you'll  let  me  I  shall  this 
very  morning  go  to  the  cottage  and  set  things  right.  Now,  don't 
you  fear,  child,"  he  continued,  when  Dolores  made  a  mien  to  con 
tradict  ;  "your  honor  is  safe  in  my  hands  I  can  assure  you,  and  I 
shall  neither  say  or  do  anything  that  is  incompatible  with  it.  I'll 
make  what  you  might  call  a  tour  of  inspection,  that  is  I  mean  to 
stick  out  my  feelers  and  see  how  matters  stand.  Nor  will  I  be  ab 
sent  long,  but  return  to  you  and  report  just  as  soon  as  I  know  how 
things  look." 

To  this  Dolores  could  have  no  reasonable  objection,  and  when 
the  two  retraced  their  steps  after  a  while  she  felt  more  light  hearted 
than  before.  While  walking,  Mr.  Fox  touched  some  minor  points. 

"  1  wondered  yesterday  at  Charlie's  absence  from  the  mansion 
and  so  did  Mrs.  Fox  ;  but  then  your  sickness  was  the  all  absorbing 
topic  of  our  thoughts  and  conversation.  Now,  of  course  I  marvel 
no  longer  at  his  failing  to  pay  us  a  visit,  but  I  wonder  with  you 
that  the  rhetorical  exercises  of  that  jackanapes  of  a  sailorboy  should 
have  made  such  an  impression  upon  his  mind.  Richard  is  my  boy 
and  I  don't  deny  him  a  father's  feelings  ;  but  when  it  comes  to  a 
comparison  between  him  and  Charlie  I  know  well  enough  how  I 
would  choose  if  I  were  a  girl." 

This  undisguised  praise  of  her  ideal  added  still  more  to  the  reac 
tion  which  had  taken  place  within  her  heart.  When  they  reached 
the  gate  and  there  parted,  she  to  return  to  the  house  and  he  to  un 
dertake  the  promised  mission  tour  to  the  cottage,  she  could  bid  him 
good-bye  with  a  smile  that  had  nothing  of  constraint  in  it. 


DOLORES.  341 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 

A   PLENIPOTENTIARY. 

Dolores  went  to  her  room  and,  taking  a  seat  at  the  window, 
which  had  a  view  of  the  park  gate,  watched  for  her  father's  return. 
He  did  not  keep  her  waiting  long,  for  after  the  expiration  of  an 
hour  she  saw  him  entering  the  park.  If  his  face  had  worn  a  bright 
and  hopeful  expression  she  would  have  run  down  stairs  to  meet  him 
half  way,  but  that  was  not  the  case.  His  step  was  measured  and 
his  countenance  serious,  if  not  sad.  So>  instead  of  meeting  him, 
she  kept  her  seat  and  with  a  beating  heart  awaited  his  arrival  in 
the  room.  She  feared  he  would  be  the  harbinger  of  bad  news  and 
in  that  case  she  would  hear  them  soon  enough.  Now  his  step  re 
sounds  on  the  stair-case.  Now  he  knocks  and  enters.  She  has  not 
been  mistaken  ;  his  countenance  is  serious,  though  its  expression 
is  more  puzzled  than  dejected.  He  sees  the  anxious  inquiry  in  his 
daughter's  eyes  and  hastens  to  her. 

"Don't  get  scared,  Dol,  at  my  phiz.  What  I  have  heard  and 
seen  is  calculated  to  upset  the  reason  of  stronger  minds  than  mine. 
Not  that  the  aspect  of  affairs  looks  desperate,  but  on  the  contrary 
I  have  the  sincere  conviction  that  everything  will  come  right  after 
a  while,  but  it  will  take  time,  and  1  think  you'll  have  to  make  up 
your  mind  to  spend  a  couple  of  weeks  without  laying  your  eyes 
upon  your  lover." 

"So  he  refuses  to  acknowledge  his  wrong?  Father,  I  shall 
never  ask  him  to  return  to  me.  If  he  refuses  to  visit  the  mansion 
he  may  prolong  his  absence  to  suit  his  pleasure." 

Mr.  Fox  rubbed  his  hands. 

"  Spunky,  Dol,  spunky  !  That's  what  I  like  to  see.  When  a 
girl  gets  spunky  there's  little  danger  of  her  dying  with  a  broken 
heart." 

Dolores  could  not  help  smiling,  but  getting  serious  again  with 
out  delay,  she  asked  : 

"  Father,  you  would  not  have  me  sacrifice  my  self-respect  for 
my  love,  would  you  ?" 

"  Indeed  I  wouldn't,  Dol ;  but  the  puzzle  is  Charles  stands  on 
his  self-respect  as  much  as  you." 


342  DOLORES. 

"  What !  Is  he  still  inclined  to  discredit  my  or  rather  your  ex 
planation?" 

"  I  am  not  prepared  to  answer  that  question,  in  as  far  as  I  failed 
to  see  him." 

11  He  was  not  at  the  cottage,  then  ?  " 

"No,  child,  nor  in  the  village,  either." 

"Father!" 

"Now,  child,  don't  get  scared.  I  told  you  the  matter  isn't  as 
bad  as  it  looks,  and  if  you'll  let  me  tell  my  story  without  interrupt 
ing  me  I'll  try  to  bring  you  over  to  my  opinion. ' 

"I'll  try  not  to  interrupt  you,  father." 

"Very  well,  Dol.  When  I  got  to  the  house  I  found  it  empty, 
with  the  exception  of  Mrs.  Fuchs,  whose  eyes  were  swollen  from 
weeping.  Nevertheless,  she  received  me  with  her  usual  kindness 
and  invited  me  into  the  parlor." 

"  Well,"  says  I  to  her,  as  soon  as  we  were  seated,  "  I  see  there's 
trouble  here  as  well  as  there. ' ' 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Fox,  we  are  sorely  troubled,"  says  she  ;  "but  what 
do  you  mean  by  trouble  there.  I  do  not  understand." 

"If  you  had  seen  my  poor  child  just  now,"  says  I,  "  with  a 
countenance  as  pale  as  death  you  would  understand  me  without 
trouble." 

"  But,  father,"  Dolores  said,  "  how  could  you  thus  expose  me  ? 
My  sorrow  will  be  satisfaction  to  them." 

"Never  you  fear,  child, "  Mr.  Fox  responded.  "  When  I  went 
there  I  had  resolved  on  ever  so  many  measures  of  caution,  but  on 
seeing  Mrs.  Fuchs'  sorrow  they  melted  like  ice  in  July,  and  I  spoke 
as  I  felt." 

"Very  well,  go  on,  father." 

"  I  will,  Dol.  Says  I :  She  was  locked  up  in  her  room  all  day 
long  yesterday  ;  never  taking  food,  never  showing  her  face,  never 
closing  her  eyes  all  night." 

Mrs.  Fuchs  started  with  a  look  of  wonder. 

"lam  still  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  you,  Mr.  Fox,"  says  she. 
"If  she  felt  so  sorry  for  what  occurred  why,  then,  did  she  turn 
the  cold  shoulder  on  my  poor  boy  for  the  sake  of  that — 

"  Jacknapes  of  a  fellow,"  I  broke  in  when  I  saw  her  hesitate. 
"Exactly,  that  would  be  an  unacountable  puzzle,  if  it  wasn't  for 


DOLORES.  343 

the  fact  that  she  never  did  turn  the  cold  sholder  on  him,  either  for 
the  sake  of  Richard  or  anybody  elese." 

Mrs.  Fuchs  got  somewhat  excited. 

"  What  !"  says  yhe,  "  can  you  deny  what  Charlie  saw  with  his 
own  eyes  ?  " 

"I  repeat,  what  I  asserted  "  says  I,  "  and  if  he  ten  times  saw  it, 
I  can  explain  the  mystery  in  as  far  as  I  heard  the  story  from  my 
daughter's  own  lips." 

' '  Then  I  told  her  the  story  as  I  received  it  from  you  a  little 
while  ago.  When  I  was  through  I  expected  to  see  her  rise  and 
may  be  dance  with  pleasure  and  take  my  hand  cry :  all  right  Sir  ! 
and  the  like.  But  my  dear  girl  she  didn't  anything  of  the  kind. 
She  sat  perfectly  still  and  her  face  was  a  little  colder  than  before, 
if  anything." 

"  Mr.  Fox  "  said  she  "  that's  a  very  nice  story  but  I  am  sorry 
to  be  compelled  to  say  that  its  nothing  but  a  story." 

"  Madam  !  "  says  I,  flashing  up.  "Don't  allow  your  grief  to 
prevent  you  from  considering  the  import  of  such  imputation." 

"  I  am  prepared  to  prove  my  words,  Mr.  Fox,"  she  says  some 
what  coldly. 

"  You  would  oblige  me  then  by  doing  so  madam,"  says  I. 

"Then,  instead  of  answering,  she  pulls  a  letter  from  her  pocket 
and  hands  it  over  to  me.  I  take  it  and  read  it,  and  to  tell  you  the 
honest  truth,  child,  I  was  exceedingly  puzzled.  If  I  didn't  know 
you  so  well  Dol,  and  if  I  wasn't  as  sure  of  your  incapability  of  play 
ing  a  double  game,  as  I  am  of  my  own  existance,  I  would  have 
given  in  and  taken  sides  with  them." 

"  But  father,  you  terify  me  !  Where  is  the  writing  capable  of 
casting  a  shadow  between  us  ?  " 

"  No  Dol,  not  so,"  he  cried  drawing  her  in  to  his  embrace  and 
pressing  a  kiss  upon  her  brow.  "It  did  not  do  that,  it  couldn't ; 
in  fact  nothing  at  all  could  ever  do  that.  So  don't  do  me  the  in 
justice  of  suspecting  my  position." 

"  Forgive  me,  father,  but  where  is  that  paper  ? " 

"Here,  child." 

"What  !  oh  father,  that  is  my  own  hand  writing,  a  leaf  from 
my  diary  !  I  don't  know  how  it  ever  got  into  his  hands ;  but,  with- 


344  DOLORES. 

out  regard  to  that,  this  paper  can  surely  contain  no  testimony 
against  me." 

"  It  loeks  like  it  Dol.     Just  read  the  last  line." 

Dolores  turned  the  paper  over  and  read  : 

"  Do  I  love  him  ?    No  I  love  him  not. ' ' 

For  a  moment  she  stood  silent  ;  then  all  at  once  a  shout  of  joy 
burst  from  her  lips  and  "darting  through  the  room,  she  knelt  at  a 
bureau  and  with  trembling  hands  unlocked  a  drawer.  Taking  from 
it  a  book,  she  returned  to  her  father's  side  as  quickly  as  she  had 
left  it.  Her  face  had  undergone  a  perfect  change.  A  light  of 
heavenly  joy  streamed  from  her  eyes ;  the  color  had  returned  to  her 
lips  and  cheeks  with  marvelous  quickness  and  as  she  now  with 
nervous  fingers  tried  to  open  the  book  she  had  taken  from  the 
drawer,  she  presented  a  picture  so  beautiful  and  lovely  that  Mr. 
Fox  dared  hardly  breath,  unless  the  sound  might  drive  it  awaj  like 
the  vision  of  a  dream  from  which  a  rude  shock  awakens  us. 

"  See  father,"  she  cried  "  here  is  the  proof  of  my  innocence. 
Not  that  I  care  so  much  about  that  proof  itself — my  word  ought  to 
suffice  the  man  that  loves  me — but  it  shows  his  conduct  in  a  dif 
ferent  light.  It  shows  that  he  did  not  act  from  appearances  alone, 
but  upon  evidence  that  might  stagger  any  man.  Oh  father,  I  am 
so  happy  ! " 

"  Well,  well,  Dol  I  am  glad  to  hear  it  ;  but  then  I  must  con 
fess  that  I  am  somewhat  curious  to  see  this  puzzle  solved.  Thus 
far  I  don:t  understand  it." 

"  Here  father,  read.  You  see  this  leaf  fits  in  this  place.  The 
line  that  caused  this  serious  complication  is  the  bottom  line  of  one 
page  and  requires  the  reading  of  the  top  line  of  the  next  page  to 
complete  the  sense.  Now  read  : 

"  Well  child  let  me  see.  '  If  Webster  is  correct,  I  worship  him 
and  worfhipisnobve.  Worship  you  can  bat  idols.  I  worship  the 
idol  of  my  soul  and  that  is  idolatry.'  Aye,  aye,  child,  I  never  knew 
you  had  such  a  big  heart  in  your  little  body  as  all  that.  I  tell  you, 
Charlie  is  a  lucky  dog." 

Dolores  blushed.     She  snatched  the  book  from  him  and  said  : 

"  Mind,  pa,  neither  you  nor  anybody  else  would  ever  have  seen 
that  writing  if  it  had  not  been  necessary  to  clear  me  of  this  grave  im 
putation.  But  how  did  the  leaf  get  out  of  my  drawer  ?  Gracious 


DOLORES.  345 

heaven  !  That  thought  involves  such  terrible  possibilites.  that  I 
tremble  to  pursue  it." 

Dolores  had  folded  her  hands  while  saying  this,  looking  the 
very  picture  of  consternation.  Mr.  Fox  looked  at  her  inquiringly 

"  What  can  you  mean,  Dol  ?     Explain." 

"No,  father,  do  not  demand  this.  By  obeying  your  injunction, 
1  might  rouse  spirits  of  suspicion  and  revenge,  to  banish  which 
would  be  more  difficult  than  to  conjure  them." 

"I  understand  you  Dol,"  Mr.  Fox  replied  and  his  face  grew 
pale.  "  Such  spirits  might  indeed  make  sad  havoc  on  our  domestic 
peace.  But  are  you  sure  that  the  leaf  was  not  lost  by  hazard  ?  " 

"  This  very  leaf,  father?  "  she  replied  with  bitterness  of  tone  ; 
' '  but  let  it  be  so  ;  yes  let  that  be  the  construction  we  put  upon  this 
strange  occurence ;  else  I  might  be  induced  to  lose  my  faith  in 
human  nature,  and  curse  my  sex  for  propagating  this  wicked  race. 
Or  better  yet,  father,  let  it  be  buried  in  oblivion." 

"Yes,  Dolores,  let  us  try.  If  you,  the  deeply  injured  party, 
can  succeed,  methinks  that  I,  so  much  interested  in  your  generous 
proposition  should  find  no  difficulty.  But,  Dol,  you  show  but  lit 
tle  curiosity  to  hear  the  conclusion  of  my  story." 

"  Oh  yes,  I  did  forget  that  you  did  not  tell  me  all.  You  have 
failed  to  explain  your  meaning  when  you  stated  that  Charles  is 
not  in  the  village  now." 

"  Yes,  that  is  it.  A  bitter  cup  still  remains  to  be  drained,  but 
after  the  happy  explanation  you  will  do  like  a  strong,  courageous 
girl." 

"  Oh,  father,  you  frighten  me ;  such  a  long  introduction.  You 
cannot  mean  that  any  serious  accident  has  befallen  him." 

"No,  child,  I  do  not  mean  that ;  but  read  this  letter,  it  will  ex 
plain  the  whole  affair  to  you.  I  should  have  hesitated  to  put  it 
into  your  hands  under  less  favorable  circumstances,  but  as  matters 
stand,  there  can  be  no  harm. 

Dolores  took  the  letter.  It  was  but  a  short  note  and  ran  as  fol 
lows : 

Dear  Mother. — I  send  you  these  lines  from  the  station.  I  am  going 
to  leave  you  for  another  short  spell.  Burlesque  will  tell  you  why. 
When  you  learn  all,  you  will  pardon  your  unhappy 

CHARLES 

All  joy  had  vanished  from  the  poor  girl's  face,  while  reading 


346  DOLORES. 

this  short  but,  to  her,  eloquent  note.  Tears  started  once  more  into 
her  eyes  and  for  ten  minutes  she  indulged  in  a  good  cry.  The 
great  trial  she  had  borne  bravely,  but  under  this  comparatively 
light  disappointment  she  gave  away.  Thus  it  is  in  life.  The 
man  who  storms  a  battery  at  the  head  of  a  regiment  often  shrinks 
from  having  his  tooth  pulled.  Mr.  Fox  let  her  have  her  way  for  a 
little  while,  then  he  laid  his  hand  on  her  head  and  said : 

"  Dol,  don't  be  selfish.  While  you  are  here  crying  about  your 
lover's  absence  a  mother  in  her  cottage  not  only  mourns  his  absence, 
but  also  his  broken  spirit.  Had  we  not  better  go  and  bring  her 
comfort  ?  ' ' 

Mr.  Fox  had  touched  the  right  chord. 

"Oh  father,  how  selfish  I  am.  Come,  let  us  go  at  once  to 
aunt  Barbara.  She  must  not  suffer  a  moment  longer  than  we  can 
help  it." 

Mr.  Fox  nodded.  They  took  their  hats,  and  without  stopping 
to  enlighten  Mrs.  Fox — who,  being  ignorant  of  the  whole  affair, 
might  well  afford  to  remain  so  an  hour  longer — left  the  house 
and  took  the  direction  to  the  cottage.  Never  in  all  his  experience 
had  Mr.  Fox  been  hurried  over  that  distance  at  such  a  frightful 
speed.  He  had  to  stop  about  a  hundred  feet  from  the  gate  to  catch 
his  breath,  but  Dolores  had  no  patience  to  wait.  The  important 
diary  in  her  hand,  she  flew  along  the  road,  then  through  the  gate, 
and  over  the  porch  into  the  hall  where  Mrs.  Fuchs  was  in  the  act 
opening  a  door. 

"Aunt  Barbara!"  the  girl  cried  with  joyous  rapture,  and 
throwing  her  arms  around  the  lady's  neck  showered  such  a  profu 
sion  of  kisses,  caresses  and  flattering  epithets  upon  her,  that  she 
could  not  have  warded  them  off,  if  she  had  been  ever  so  much  in 
clined  to  do  so. 

"  Don't  say  a  word,  before  you  hear  me  aunty,"  Dolores  at  last 
exclaimed,  shutting  the  other's  lips  by  gently  laying  her  hand  upon 
them.  "  Come  in,  I  can  explain  it  now,  I  can  unravel  the  mystery 
into  the  brightest  sunshine." 

She  drew  Mrs.  Fuchs  into  the  room  and  to  a  chair  on  which  she 
compelled  her  to  sit  without  much  ceremony.  Then  she  opened  her 
diary  and  said  : 


DOLORES.  347 

"Here  is  the  passage  on  whose  evidence  you  condemned  me. 
Read  it  again  ! "  , 

''Alas  !  I  know  it  by  heart,  Dolores.  What  is  the  use  of  read 
ing  it?" 

"But  here  is  the  continuation  of  the  sentence.  Read  that, 
then,  if  you  please  ' '  : 

' '  If  Webster  is  correct,  I  worship  him  and  worship  is  no  love. 
Worship  you  can  but  idols.  I  worship  the  idol  of  my  soul,  and  that 
is  idolatry." 

Mr.  Fuchs  stopped,  and  Dolores  looked  with  triumphant  inqui 
ry  into  her  face. 

"Now,  aunty,  mother,  what  now?" 

Mrs.  Fuchs  looked  bewildered. 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  say.  This  is  so  sudden  a  revelation  that 
I  can  hardly  master  the  powerful  emotions  of  my  heart.  Oh,  Dol, 
if  Charlie  could  have  known  this  yesterday." 

"  Or,  aunt,  if  I  had  only  known  that  this  paper  was  in  his  pos 
session  I  would  then  have  laid  aside  my  pride  and  come  to  explain. 
As  it  was  I  thought  he  condemned  me  on  more  trifling  evidence, 
and  I  was  too  proud  and  mortified  to  take  the  first  step  in  an  ex 
planation." 

"  So  you  did  not  know  he  had  the  paper  ?  How  did  you  happen 
to  lose  it?" 

"  Pst',  aunty,  don't  ask  me  that  question.  That  question  might 
open  hell  and  give  its  evil  spirits  liberty  to  haunt  the  earth.  The 
paper  was  in  my  drawer ;  it  has  disappeared.  Let  that  suffice, 
aunty.  You  understand  me,  don't  you?" 

"  I  think  I  do,  child.     But  this  is  dreadful !  " 

"Never  mention  it  again.  Come,  pa  is  on  the  porch.  He 
came  along  but  couldn't  keep  up  with  me.  Let  us  go  to  him  and 
advise  about  the  proper  means  of  bringing  back  the  runaway." 

Mrs.  Fuchs  humored  the  girl  and  soon  shook  hands  with  Mr. 
Fox.  She  was  like  newly  born  ;  a  very  different  person  from  what 
he  had  found  her  on  his  first  visit.  He  told  her  so,  and  she  replied: 

"  No  wonder,  sir.  This  girl  of  yours  is  somewhat  of  a  sorceress. 
She  understands  how  to  make  a  person  laugh  and  cry  in  one  breath. 
No  wonder  poor  Charlie  is  so  perfectly  bewitched  !  ' ' 


348  DOLORES. 

Mr.  Fox  laughed  and  then  gave  the  conversation  a  practical 
turn. 

"  Let  me  see,"  he  said,  "  the  next  train  for  Boston  starts  at  12 
o'clock.  If  we  dispatch  Mr.  Burlesque  at  once  he  can  reach  the 
depot  in  time  to  take  it.  We  can  telegraph  at  the  same  time  and 
thus  prevent  our  bird  from  flying  any  further.  In  that  way  we 
can  have  him  here  in  three  days  at  least.  Mrs.  Fuchs  can  I  have 
your  horse  and  buggy  to  take  Mr.  Burlesque  to  town  ?" 

"  Of  course,  sir,"  Mrs.  Fuchs  replied,  and  left  her  friends  to  get 
Henry  to  hitch  up  the  horse  and  drive  the  buggy  to  the  front  door. 
When  she  returned  to  the  porch  Mr.  Fox  inquired  : 

"How  did  Charles  get  off  so  quick?  The  lad  displayed  his 
usual  energy  on  this  occasion." 

"  Well,  sir,  his  trunk  was  still  at  the  depot.  He  had  not  brought 
it  with  him,  because  there  was  so  much  baggage  on  the  train  and 
he  Avould  have  been  obliged  to  wait  at  least  an  hour  for  it.  When 
he  left  the  mansion  yesterday  he  did  not  call  here  at  all,  but  going 
to  the  factory  got  Mr.  Burlesque  to  drive  him  to  the  depot  with 
one  of  the  factory  horses.  You  may  imagine  my  feelings  at  the 
reception  of  his  note.  I  entertained  pretty  hard  thoughts  against 
our  little  girl  here  and  came  mighty  near  expressing  them,  too." 

"Yes,  madam,  I  noticed  something  like  it,"  Mr.  Fox  replied 
with  a  sarcastic  twinkle  of  his  eye  ;  "  but  here  is  the  horse.  Thank 
you,  Henry.  Good-bye,  madam  ;  good-bye,  Dol.  You  must  go 
home  now  and  inform  your  mother.  I  know  she  frets  about  you." 

" Yes,  father,"  Dolores  answered;  and  while  he  drove  off  in 
one  direction  she,  like  a  dutiful  daughter,  returned  to  the  mansion 
after  having  said  a  warm  good-bye  to  aunt  Barbara. 

On  reaching  the  factory  Mr.  Fox  jumped  from  his  buggy  and 
entered  the  office.  He  found  gloomy  faces  the  order  of  the  day. 

"  Cheer  up,  friends  !"  he  cried  ;  "  there  is  no  more  occasion  for 
making  long  faces.  My  little  one  loves  your  son  and  friend  after 
all.  No,  she  doesn't  love  him,  she  worships  him,  the  little  vixen  !" 

Mr.  Fox,  after  giving  a  hurried  explanation,  continued  :  "  Mr. 
Burlesque,  the  train  for  Boston  leaves  in  one  hour.  Can  you,  with 
out  any  further  preparation,  go  there  and  bring  the  runaway  back  ? 
The  buggy  is  at  the  door  and  I  can  take  you  to  the  depot/' 

Instead  of  an  answer  Mr.  Burlesque  sprang  up  and  took  his  hat. 


DOLOKES.  349 

His  employer  had,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  driven  all  the  gloom 
from  his  brow. 

"  I  am  ready,  sir,"  was  all  he  said.  He  was  so  joyous  that  he 
forgot  to  make  a  joke. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Fuchs,  take  care  of  yourself  and  the  factory." 

With  this  warning  the  two  left  the  office,  jumped  into  the  bug 
gy  and  made  the  horse  do  his  very  best.  They  were  in  time  to  pro 
cure  the  ticket,  and  Burlesque  sprang  on  the  platform  of  the  car 
while  the  train  was  already  moving. 

Mr.  Fox  next  went  to  the  telegraph  office  and  sent  the  follow 
ing  dispatch  : 

Charles  Fachs,  Esq.,  Boston, Hotel. 

All  right.  Mystery  explained.  Burlesque  will  be  there.  Await 
his  coming. 

EDWARD  Fox. 

Mr.  Fox  had  done  his  duty.  In  a  contented  mood  of  mind  he 
resumed  his  seat  in  the  vehicle  which  had  brought  him  and  return 
ed  more  leisurely  than  he  had  come. 

Three  days  passed  away.  Tn  vain  the  two  families  had  waited 
for  a  dispatch  announcing  the  train  on  which  the  friends  would 
arrive.  At  last,  on  the  evening  of  the  third  day,  Mr.  Burlesque 
arrived  on  foot  and  alone.  He  looked  doleful  and  crestfallen.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Fox  and  Dolores  were  at  the  cottage  in  search  of  news. 
All  got  frightened  at  the  sad  countenance  of  the  messenger.  They 
felt  sure  that  he  was  the  harbinger  of  evil  tidings.  He  greeted 
them  with  a  nod  of  the  head  without  saying  a  word. 

"Speak,  man!"  Mr.  Fox  exclaimed  ;  "don't  stand  there  like 
a  statue  !  We  can  stand  the  worst.  Is  he  dead  ?" 

"No,  sir;  thank  God  it  isn't  so  bad  as  that.  This  letter,  no 
doubt,  will  explain  all." 

He  handed  Mr.  Fox  a  letter  addressed  to  Mrs.  Fuchs. 

' '  May  I  read  it  ?"  he  asked,  laying  his  finger  on  the  seal. 

"Yes,  sir  ;  but  quick  !" 

Mr.  Fox  tore  open  the  envelope  and  unfolded  a  note.  It  wasn't 
much  longer  than  the  first  one  Charles  had  written  to  his  mother 
from  the  depot.  It  read  as  follows  : 

DEAREST  MOTHER: — When  you  get  this  note  I  am  on  the  ocean 

A  scream  of  pain  and  surprise  on  the  part  of  the  ladies  inter- 


350  DOLORES. 

rupted  him.  But  it  was  not  repeated.  The  suspense  of  what  else 
the  note  would  yet  reveal  took  away  their  breath.  So  Mr.  Fox 
continued  : 

I  hardly  venture  to  ask  your  forgiveness  for  so  grievious  an  of 
fense  as  mine.  But,  mother,  believe  me,  I  could  not  act  differently. 
To  return  to  Foxville  and  witness  the  happiness  of  a  pair  so  ill- 
matched  would  have  been  worse  than  death,  and  sooner  or  later 
would  have  resulted  in  his  or  my  death.  I  did  not  know  that  any 
passion  could  so  completely  overpower  me,  but  it  is  the  fact.  My 
love  for  her  has  filled  me  so  long  (it  was  a  feature  of  my  boyhood) 
that  it  has  pervaded  my  whole  nature.  To  kill  it  would  be  to  kill 
myself.  On  going  now  to  Europe  I  will  not  forget  her  ;  but  I  hope 
that  I  may  learn  in  time  to  bear  the  thought  of  knowing  her  being 
another's,  Oh  !  my  God,  of  one  whom  I  most  sincerely  believe  to  be 
unworthy  of  her — 

At  this  period  Mrs.  Fuchs  took  the  hand  of  Richard's  mother. 

"  Pardon  him  !"  she  said,  with  tears  streaming  down  her  cheeks; 
"  he  knows  not  what  he  says." 

Instead  of  an  answer  Mrs.  Fox  embraced  and  kissed  her.  Mr. 
Fox  resumed  : 

I  am  going  to  Italy.  It  will  give  me  the  shadow  of  a  consola 
tion  to  visit  the  laud  where  the  cradle  of  her  ancestors  once  stood. 
Give  my  love  to  my  dear  father.  She  will  refuse  to  receive  it.  As 
soon  as  I  can  report  progress  in  this,  my  difficult  uudertaking,  you 
will  hear  from  your  CHARLES. 

Dolores  threw  herself  into  the  arms  of  the  bereaved  mother. 
They  wept  together,  the  only  comfort  that  was  left  for  them. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

A    DECEIVER   DECEIVED. 

It  was  a  dreary  life  that  now  began  in  the  two  families.  All 
those  joyous  expectations,  all  those  anticipations  of  delightful  meet 
ings,  of  winter  evenings,  with  plenty  of  light  and  warmth  and 
mirth,  where  were  they  ?  The  source  of  light  and  life  in  the  cot 
tage  was  a  wanderer  in  distant  lands,  and  the  maiden  in  the  man 
sion — she,  once  so  genial  and  happy  and  causing  happiness  to  oth 
ers — Dolores,  was  only  the  shadow  of  her  former  self.  We  do  not 
use  the  word  as  a  mere  metaphor,  for  not  only  her  hilarity  was 
waning  but  the  substance  of  her  body,  too,  was  wasting,  and  that 
lovely  form,  once  so  round  and  fresh,  soon  assumed  an  alarming 


DOLOKES.  351 

angularity.  Her  parents  studied  day  and  night  how  to  divert  her 
mind,  but  it  was  all  in  vain.  She  did  not  complain.  She  asserted 
in  reply  to  all  anxious  inquiries  about  her  state  of  mind  and  health 
that  she  felt  well  and  was  even  comparatively  happy.  But  the  ex 
perienced  eye  of  Mr.  Fox  could  not  be  easily  deceived,  and  so  he 
resolved  to  consult  the  family  physician  before  it  was  too  late.  In 
order  to  enable  Dr.  Palmer  to  advise  judiciously,  Mr.  Fox  deemed 
it  necessary  to  give  him  an  outline  sketch  of  the  late  trouble,  there 
by  enabling  him  to  see  that  the  disease,  if  such  it  was,  had  its  seat 
in  the  mind  as  well  as  in  the  body. 

Dr.  Palmer  shook  his  head. 

"Medicine,"  he  said,  "will  not  do  the  slightest  good  in  thi& 
case.  It  seems  Dolores  has  sunk  into  a  state  of  apathy,  to  arouse 
her  from  which  is  no  easy  matter,  and  may  require  extraordinary 
means.  I  should  advise  a  change  of  place  and  air  ;  in  other  words, 
traveling. ' ' 

"But,  Doctor,  how  can  we  travel  in  the  depth  of  winter?" 
Mrs.  Fox  inquired.  She,  of  course,  had  been  drawn  into  the  con 
sultation  and  now  advanced  this  objection. 

"Well,  madam,  for  the  present  you  must  stay  at  home,  of 
course  ;  but  I  would  make  plans  for  the  coming  spring  and  set  her 
at  work  to  think  about  and  to  prepare  for  it.  In  that  way  you 
may  give  food  to  mind  and  body  in  the  shape  of  healthful  occupa 
tion.  Only  don't  let  her  look  into  your  cards  ;  as  soon  as  she 
thinks  that  you  are  doctoring  her  your  project  will  fail." 

In  obedience  to  these  injunctions  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fox  resolved  in 
their  mind  a  dozen  different  plans,  none  of  which,  however,  had 
the  merit  of  particular  feasibility.  They  were  still  torturing  their 
brains  in  this  manner  when  all  at  once  a  ray  of  light  burst  into  the 
chaos,  as  unexpected  as  welcome. 

When  Mr.  Burlesque  returned  from  his  last  and  unsuccessful 
trip  on  foot,  his  heart  and  head  as  sore  as  his  body,  he  had,  be 
tween  the  factory  and  cottage,  met  a  couple  of  idlers,  whose  com 
fortable  looks,  sauntering  gait  and  laughter  contrasted  too  strongly 
with  his  gloomy  mood  of  mind  not  to  fill  him  with  an  undefined 
but  yet  strong  feeling  of  hostility  against  them.  When  they  no 
ticed  and  recognized  him  they  thought  it  prudent  to  moderate  their 
mirth  and  to  look  concerned  to  a  certain  degree.  The  reader  will 


352  DOLORES. 

have  guessed  that  these  merry  companions  were  Richard  and  Henry. 
Burlesque  answered  their  inquiries  rather  sharply  and  turned  away 
quickly  to  continue  his  walk  to  the  cottage  ;  but,  rapidly  as  his 
glance  passed  them,  he  could  not  help  noticing  a  malignant  pleas 
ure  in  their  eyes,  nor  could  he  help  hearing  another  outburst  of 
their  unpleasant  laughter  in  which  they  indulged. 

The  stirring  scenes  at  the  cottage  which  now  followed  had  the 
tendency  of  crowding  this  encounter  from  his  memory  ;  but  when 
the  feelings  of  the  inmates  returned  to  their  wonted  channel  the 
circumstances  of  that  interview  returned  to  his  mind  with  greater 
force  than  before.  Why  should  these  two  laugh  when  all  the  oth 
ers  wept  ?  Were  their  interests  so  much  at  variance  ?  And  if  the 
sad  misunderstanding  was  so  acceptable  to  them  was  it  not  possible 
that  they  had  helped  or  even  planned  to  bring  it  about  ? 

Mr.  Burlesque  was  alone  in  his  office  when  this  question  arose 
in  his  mind.  It  agitated  him  to  such  a  degree  that  he  sprang  from 
his  seat  and  for  more  than  half  an  hour  paced  the  floor.  The  more 
he  thought  of  it  the  more  he  followed  the  thread  running  through 
the  whole  tragedy,  the  more  he  became  confirmed  in  his  belief. 
Yes,  these  two  goodfornothings  had,  for  unknown  reasons,  con 
cocted  the  scheme  which  had  chased  the  sunshine  from  two  fire 
sides  for  many  a  sad  day,  perhaps  forever.  They  had  concocted  it, 
but  why  ?  That  was  the  mystery.  Could  Richard  really  have 
thought  that  the  memory  of  a  man  like  Charles  could  be  so  easily 
driven  from  the  maiden's  heart  ?  Or  was  there  another  secret  rea 
son  which  made  him  hope  for  success  ? 

Burlesque  did  not  know  ;  but  he  was  resolved  to  do  his  best  to 
fathom  the  mystery.  If  Dolores  and  Mr.  Fox  had  reasons  to  spare 
the  criminals — if  such  they  were — Mr.  Burlesque  had  none,  and 
when  he  commenced  his  operations  it  was  with  the  determination  of 
waging  the  war  to  the  bitter  end. 

He  seemed  to  feel  that  it  would  not  do  to  draw  either  of  the 
families  into  his  confidence  ;  but,  trusting  to  the  resources  of  his 
own  mind,  commenced  the  work  without  outside  assistance.  These 
resources  were  by  no  means  despicable.  His  great  experience  in 
acting  characters  of  the  different  kinds  gave  him  a  weapon  which 
he  handled  with  striking  and — to  the  conspirators — fatal  success. 
At  first  Mr.  Burlesque  changed  his  conduct  towards  Richard  and 


DOLOKES.  353 

Henry  but  little.  He  had  plenty  of  time  and  much  at  stake ;  their 
suspicion  once  aroused  it  might  take  months  to  lull  it  again.  Only 
gradually  and  imperceptibly  he  wormed  himself  into  the  good 
graces  of  Henry  and  revived  his  old  relations  to  Richard. 

Burlesque  was  a  master  in  the  art  of  dissembling.  Guessing 
correctly  that  Henry  disliked  his  brother,  he  thought  that  nothing 
would  more  really  engender  a  familiarity  between  them  than  the 
pretension  of  a  kindred  feeling,  especially  if  it  was  presented  as 
the  growth  of  time.  Henry  took  the  bait,  and  before  three  months 
were  over  he  had  changed  his  feelings  toward  the  actor  so  much  as 
to  wonder  how  he  could  ever  have  disliked  him.  Besides  hinting 
at  Charles  as  an  impractical  fool  who  didn't  deserve  anything  bet 
ter  than  to  wander  over  the  world,  Mr.  Burlesque  gained  by  noth 
ing  a  quicker  and  stronger  hold  upon  the  younger  brother  than  by 
the  readiness  with  which  he  connived  at  his  little  irregularities. 
Not  satisfied  with  shielding  Henry  from  discovery,  he  even  lent  his 
office  and  his  money  to  furnish  him  and  Richard  with  the  place 
and  means  of  indulging  in  those  little  orgies  which  were  totally 
out  of  question  at  either  the  cottage  or  the  mansion. 

At  last  the  fruit,  according  to  his  opinion,  was  ripe  enough  to 
be  plucked.  We  find  him  in  the  office  at  the  late  hour  of  8  o'clock 
P.  M.  The  curtains  are  down  ;  a  pleasant  fire  in  the  grate  warms 
up  the  air  and  a  pair  of  lamps  cast  their  bright  light  on  a  well- 
filled  supper  table.  A  white  cloth  is  spread  over  the  furniture, 
hiding  its  rough  workmanship,  and  several  cans  of  oysters  and 
bottles  of  wine  promise  an  abundant  supply  of  food  and  drink. 
Burlesque  surveys  the  whole  arrangement  and  a  grim  smile  betrays 
his  satisfaction.  He  puts  a  box  of  cigars  on  the  table,  and,  light 
ing  one  himself,  assumes  a  seat  before  the  grate  to  give  himself  up 
to  his  thoughts.  But  he  has  not  much  time  for  this,  for  all  at  once 
voices  became  audible  before  the  door  ;  he  hears  feet  knocking  off 
the  snow  that  covers  the  ground  outside,  and  then  the  door  opens 
and  admits  our  well-known  mariners. 

"  Good  evening,  Burlesque  !"  they  cry,  and  Richard  continues  : 

"You  have  a  devilish  cosy  cabin  here,  I  tell  you.  Good 
enough  for  a  prince." 

' '  Yes,  a  fellow  feels  mighty  good  here  after  tramping  through 
the  snow,"  Henry  chimed  in. 

23 


354  DOLORES. 

11  You  must  be  cold,  boys,"  Burlesque  said  ;  "come  to  the  grate 
a  moment  and  warm  yourselves  before  you  pitch  in.  The  wine  is 
a  little  too  cold  anyhow.  I  just  brought  it  in. 

The  visitors  followed  his  injunctions  and  soon  the  trio  sat  at  the 
fire,  engaging  in  a  conversation,  which,  for  the  sake  of  fair  readers, 
we  must  suppress.  Nor  is  it  my  intention  to  accompany  them 
through  their  revelry.  It  suffices,  if  we  notice  them  again,  when 
their  tongues  have  grown  heavy  and  refuse  to  pass  the  ribaldry 
which  had  been  the  order  of  the  night.  I  do  Mr.  Burlesque  jus 
tice  ;  he  had  found  no  pleasure  in  the  pastime,  although  the  time 
was  not  far  distant  when  he  had  partaken  in  similar  orgies  as  a  full 
partner  and  abettor.  In  this  instance  nothing  but  the  love  for  his 
injured  friend  and  his  ardent  wish  to  avenge  his  wrongs  could  have 
induced  him  to  go  through  the  sickening  scene  of  the  gradual  in 
toxication  of  the  youths. 

Xow  the  long  looked  for  moment  had  arrived.  As  yet  the  fel 
lows  were  talkative  enough  to  betray  their  secret ;  but,  that  mark 
once  passed,  the  sleepy  spell  would  set  in,  and  then  goodbye,  ye 
revelations.  So  the  actor  commenced  his  operations. 

"Boys,"  he  cried,  raising  his  tumbler,  "it  appears  to  me  we 
h'aint  clone  half  enough  homage  to  the  womon.  Our  sweethearts, 
long  may  they  live  !  A  rascal  who  refuses  to  give  her  name  and 
toast  her.  I'll  set  you  a  good  example,  boys.  My  sweet  love  lives 
in  Boston  ;  alas  !  the  charming  Windermere  sheds  her  lustre  now 
on  luckier  fellows.  Well,  never  mind  this ;  to  her  memory,  lads, 
come  pledge  a  glass."  The  visitors  were  not  slow  to  join  him  in 
the  toast  and  the  glasses  rang  merrily  among  the  shouts. 

"  So,"  Burlesque  resumed,  "I've  done  my  duty.  Now,  Henry, 
your  turn  comes  next." 

"Lucy  Fox,  then,"  the  young  man  stammered  forth,  "her 
health  forever." 

Again  the  glasses  met  with  a  zest  that  threatened  their  imme 
diate  destruction. 

"Ah  !  does  the  wind  blow  from  that  corner,  Henry?  Your 
taste  is  good  and  your  judgment  better.  A  cunning  rooster  always 
hunts  for  a  warmly  lined  nest.  Now  you,  Richard  give  us  the  last 
but  not  the  least  toast.  I'm  sure  you  can  have  picked  no  unworthy 
subject  for  your  love," 


DOLORES.  355 

"  I  should  think  not  "  he  answered  strutting  like  a  turkey  gob 
bler.  "  What  would  you  say  if  I  pledged  you  for  Dolores,  dutchess 
of  Gatana?  " 

"  Good,  sir,  good,  upon  my  soul.  I  wish  that  milk-sop  of  a 
Charlie  could  hear  you  now.  The  fool  !  To  run  away  and  leave  his 
sweetheart  to  his  betters.  Ha!  Ha!" 

"Ha!  Ha!  It's  surely  funny,  but  Burlesque  you  know  he 
would  not  have  run  quite  so  quick,  if  I  and  Henry  here  hadn't 
signed  his  pass.  But  you  havn't  pledged  me  yet ;  long  life  to  the 
dutchess  of  Gatana." 

"  Here  I  go,"  Burlesque  answered,  "  and  I  most  sincerely  wish 
her  chances  for  the  title  were  as  good  as  her  beauty." 

"Never  you  mind,  sir,"  Richard  popped  out  "that  title  is  a 
duced  sight  better  than  you  think.  Do  you  imagine  I  should  allow 
myself  to  be  captivated  by  a  handsome  phiz,  if  it  wasn't  backed  by 
a  ducal  crown  and  plenty  of  fields  and  villages?  Heh  !  Henry  ! 
It  takes  a  man  to  see  the  world  to  make  him  clever,  dosn't  it  old 
fellow  ?  " 

"To  be  sure  it  does,  Dick.     You  and  I  have  done  our  share." 

"  There  !  Burlesque,  do  you  hear  that  ?  Just' come  and  pledge 
a  glass  to  Richard,  duke  of  Gatana  and  his  consort." 

"I  will,  with  pleasure,  Richard  ;  yes,  more  than  that,  I'll  pledge 
you  even  a  visit,  if  that  duchy  of  yours  is  anywhere  nearer  than 
the  moon,  which  in  truth  1  fear  it  isn't." 

"  Isn't  eh?  See  here  old  chap,  if  you  wern't  so  clever  a  fellow 
I'd  say  you  were  a  duced  sort  of  an  unbelieving  Thomas.  What 
do  you  mean  Charlie  to  doubt  the  word  of  a  gentleman,  like  me  ?" 

Burlesque  took  it  all  in  good  humor.  It  didn't  suit  him  to  get 
angry.  Laughing  at  the  other's  pompous  air  he  cried  : 

"So  far  Richard,  I  havn't  had  a  chance  to  doubt  your  word. 
You  have  been  joking  and  I  have  given  joke  for  joke.  In  reality, 
I  guess,  I  have  about  as  much  chance  to  be  a  duke  as  you." 

"  You  have,  have  you?  Supposing  we  take  the  thing  from  a 
practical  point  of  view.  Are  you  willing  to  bet  $5.00  on  that  ?" 

"Of  course.  I  will  win  it  too.  Henry  may  hold  the  stakes. 
Here  is  my  five.  Fork  out  your  money." 

"The  devil  take  me,  if  I  have  any.  Supposing  you  lend  me 
some.  When  I  am  duke  I  will  pay  you  back  with  interest." 


356  DOLORES. 

"  That's  cool.  "  Burlesque  said  with  a  laugh,  but  I  have  no  ob 
jection  to  that  novel  way  of  betting.  Here  Heny  is  another  five, 
and  now  Richard  if  you  can  prove  the  point  the  stake  is  yours." 

Richard  laughed  the  course  laugh  peculiar  to  intoxication. 

"  That  money  is  as  good  as  mine"  he  cried.  "  I  hope  you'll  ad 
mit  Henry's  testimony." 

"If  he  promises  to  adhere  strictly  to  veracity." 

"  Honor  bright !"  cries  Henry. 

'•  All  right,  then.     Go  ahead  steamboat." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Richard,  interrupting  the  following  narrative 
with  numerous  hiccoghs.  "  Very  well,  sir,  I  can  satisfy  you  in  less 
than  no  time.  This  summer,  you  must  know,  our  vessel  put  in  at 
Leghorn  to  take  in  a  cargo  of  goods.  Isn't  that  so,  Henry  ?  " 

"  Just  so." 

"  Well,  after  a  hard  days  work  the  captain  would  often  give  us 
men  permission  to  go  to  shore.  Henry  and  I  of  course  improved 
such  opportunities,  for  I  tell  you  Burlesque  that  country  beats  all 
the  world  for  its  wines  and  girls.  Don't  it,  Henry?  " 

"  I  think  it  does." 

"  One  night  we  had  loaded  so  much  that  we  couldn't  get  back 
to  the  ship  to  save  ourselves.  The  host  of  the  tavern  where  we 
had  been  carousing  allowed  us  to  sleep  on  the  benches  of  the  bar 
room,  and  when  we  woke  in  the  morning  we  stared  at  one  another 
and  commenced  to  laugh — didn't  we,  Henry  ?" 

"  I  guess  so." 

"There,  Burlesque,  notice  what  he  says  ;  it's  true  to  the  letter. 
\Vell,  after  washing  a  little  and  adjusting  our  dress,  says  I  to 
Henry  :  'I'll  be  darned  over  and  over  again  if  I  don't  benefit  by 
this  chance  to  see  the  country.  Come,  let's  make  an  excursion  for 
more  wine  and  women.'  ' 

"  '  But  the  captain,  Dick,'  says  Henry,  looking  very  wise.  To 
do  him  justice,  lie  can  look  wise  on  rare  occasions." 

"  '  The  deuce  take  the  captain  !'  says  I.  'I'll  make  it  all  right. 
Just  come  along  now.'  " 

"So  we  went.  Leaving  the  city  behind  us  we  struck  a  road 
that  winds  through  the  hills  to  the  interior,  rising  higher  and 
higher  and  affording  a  thousand  beautiful  views  of  the  bay  and  the 
city  at  our  feet.  To  tell  the  truth,  Burlesque,  we  didn't  care  much 


DOLOKES.  357 

about  the  picturesque,  Henry  and  I.  We  went  in  for  the  solid  and 
I  tell  you  we  got  enough  of  it  before  we  returned.  We  are  hand 
some  lads,  you  know,  and  such  a  shower  of  fiery  glances  you  never 
saw.  The  girls  were  just  picking  the  grapes  in  the  vineyards,  and 
I  hardly  know  whether  we  got  more  grapes,  wine  or  kisses.  We 
might  have  stayed  all  day  with  these  bewitching  Venuses,  if  I 
hadn't  been  anxious  to  see  more  of  the  country.  So  we  said  'good 
bye  '  to  them  and  climbed  until  we  reached  the  top  of  the  moun 
tain  that  girdles  the  coast.  The  exercise  had  made  us  hungry  and 
tired  ;  therefore  we  were  glad  to  discover  an  old  castle  at  the  road 
side,  built  in  old  style,  with  ditches,  battlements  and  turrets.  It 
was  tolerably  well  preserved,  however,  and  tenanted,  for  an  old 
man  sat  before  the  gate,  something  of  a  porter  we  supposed,  and 
our  supposition  proved  correct.  We  asked  him  whether  he  could 
sell  us  something  to  eat  and  drink,  and,  his  answer  being  in  the 
affirmative,  we  sat  down  at  the  bench  while  the  old  fellow  got  up 
to  fetch  us  some  provisions  and  a  bottle  of  wine.  In  Italy  they 
keep  a  mighty  poor  table,  I  tell  you,  as  far  as  eating  is  concerned, 
but  as  to  drinking — by  Jove,  the  wine  is  fit  for  gods.  Hunger  is 
the  best  cook,  they  say,  and  we  eat  the  dry  crusts  and  maccaroni 
of  the  castellan  with  a  good  enough  relish.  His  wine  moreover  in 
demnified  us  for  his  victuals,  for  I  swear  it  was  the  best  we  had 
drunk  so  far.  It  made  us  talkative,  and,  since  the  castellan  under 
stood  French  and  we  had  picked  up  a  smattering  of  that  language 
in  the  French  ports,  we  succeeded  first-rate  in  keeping  up  a  con 
versation.  We  asked  him  questions  about  this  and  that,  and  some 
how  or  other — I  hardly  knew  how  it  came  up — he  told  us  the 
name  of  his  master,  the  owner  of  the  castle.  It  was  the  duke  di 
Gatana." 

"  The  dickens  it  was  !"  Burlesque  broke  in  with  sudden  vehe 
mence.  He  had  forgotten  his  role.  Fortunately  the  vigorous  ex 
pression  suited  the  occasion  ;  at  least  Kichard  took  it  in  good 
humor. 

"  Aha  !  you  begin  to  smell  a  rat,  do  you  ?"  he  said,  laughing. 
' '  Henry,  hold  on  to  the  stakes  ;  the  old  chap  is  fearing  for  his 
money." 

"  It  begins  to  look  squally  !"  Burlesque  replied,  scratching  his 


358  DOLORES. 

head  and  looking  concerned.     "But  go  on  with   your  yarn — the 
sooner  I  know  my  fate  the  better." 

"Y.ou  can  he  accommodated,  my  dear  sir;  though  as  to  the 
money — you  better  make  up  your  mind  at  once  to  lose  it ;  it's  a 
gone  case." 

"  I'll  see  about  that  when  you  have  done.     So  go  on." 

"Very  well.  I  started  when  I  heard  the  name  and  so  did 
Henry.  We  did  start,  Henry,  didn't  we  ?" 

"Guess  we  did." 

"'The  duke  di  Gatana,'  says  I  to  the  castellan.  'I  thought 
the  estates  of  the  duke  had  been  confiscated  by  the  government  ?" 

"'That  was  under  the  Austrian  government  in  Lombardy, 
where  most  domains  are  lying,'  says  he,  'but  this  war  has  changed 
all  that.  We  belong  to  Italy  now  ;  the  possessions  have  been  re 
stored  to  the  rightful  owner.'  " 

"'The  devil  they  have  !'  thinks  I ;  maybe  the  little  beggar-girl 
at  home  is  worth  looking  after.' " 

"  'But  who  is  the  rightful  owner,  sir?'  says  I  to  the  castellan. 
1  thought  the  duke  had  been  obliged  to  flee  for  his  life  and  never 
returned  to  his  native  country  ?'  " 

"'You  have  been  rightly  informed,'  says  the  old  man  with  a 
sigh  ;  '  it  is  a  sad  story,  sir,  and  brings  tears  into  my  old  eyes.' " 

"  Have  you  any  objection  to  telling  us  ?" 

"  He  had  none,  and  we  now  listened  to  a  well-known  story.  Of 
course,  what  we  knew  already,  hadn't  much  interest  for  us,  but  we 
learned  other  things  that  were  well  worth  the  time  we  spent  on 
them.  When  he  had  finished  I  asked  him  :" 

"'So  the  present  duke  is  the  brother  of  the  one  who  had  to 
leave  the  country?'  ' 

"  '  Yes,  sign  or.'  " 

"  '  And  you  never  heard  of  him  again  ?'  " 

"'No,  sir,  we  didn't.  To  tell  you  in  confidence,  the  present 
duke  didn't  over-exert  himself  in  finding  him.  It  was  to  his  inter 
est  that  his  brother  shouldn't  be  found,  and  interest,  you  know, 
goes  above  blood.  But,  then,  it  isn't  my  business;  what  has  a 
poor  old  man  to  do  with  such  affairs  ?'  " 

"  'Then  if  the  real  duke  was  still  alive  the  property  would  go 
back  to  him  ?'  " 


DOLOKES.  359 


"'No  doubt,  sir"' 

"  'Or  to  his  son  in  case  of  his  death  ?'  ' 

t<  t 


Why,  certainly,  signor ;  that's  the  law  of  the  country.'  " 

"  'Now  for  a  question  more  to  the  point,'  thinks  I." 

"  'Signor  Castellano,  you  are  very  kind  to  answer  the  idle  ques 
tions  of  a  stranger  ;  yet  I  must  ask  one  more  :  How  would  the  case 
stand  provided  a  daughter  had  been  left  instead  of  a  son  ?'  ' 

"  'Of  that  signor,  I  can  inform  you  correctly,'  says  he;  "be 
cause  the  archives  of  the  family  have  a  similar  case  on  record.'  " 

"  'And  that  record — what  does  it  say  ?' K 

"  'It  gave  the  property  to  the  daughter  and  the  title  to  the 
uncle.'" 

"  'Then  the  daughter  was  not  a  duchess  ?'  " 

"  'No,  but  she  married,  and  the  king  graciously  bestowed  the 
ducal  dignity  upon  the  pair.' " 

"  'Then  the  husband  of  Dolores  may  also  get  that  title?'  says  I." 

"The  old  man  jumped  up  as  if  he  had  been  electrified." 

"  'Dolores  !'  he  cried  ;  'what  do  you  know  about  her?  You 
know  her  name,  you  know  her  residence — oh,  make  the  last  days 
of  an  old  man  happy  by  letting  him  partake  of  your  knowledge?' " 

"  I  had  made  a  blunder — the  smartest  of  us  can  make  blun 
ders — can't  they,  Burlesque  ?" 

"  Of  course,"  the  actor  responded,  and  there  is  reason  to  believe 
that  he  said  what  he  meant. 

'•  Well,  I  had  made  a  blunder,  but  I  am  not  the  fellow  who  is 
caught  as  easily  as  that.  So  I  says  as  unconcerned  as  possible  :" 

"  'What  did  you  mean,  signor  ?  I  know  of  no  Dolores;  only 
you  mentioned  that  name  before  in  speaking  of  the  duke's  daugh 
ter,  and  I  recollected  it." 

"The  old  chap  laid  his  hand  on  his  forehead.  He  seemed 
deeply  pained  by  his  disappointment,  and,  upon  honor,  I  felt  for 
the  fellow,  as  I  owed  him  valuable  information.  But,  then,  you 
know,  I  couldn't  let  him  look  into  my  cards.  That  would  have 
been  absurd,  wouldn't  it  ?" 

Burlesque,  of  course,  agreed. 

"I  knew  you'd  say  so.  But  that's  my  besetting  weakness.  I 
am  tender-hearted  as  a  chicken — if  I  wasn't  I'd  fare  a  great  deal 
better.  But  see  here,  Henry,  just  fork  over  that  money  of  mine." 


360  DOLORES. 

"I  protest?"  Burlesque  cried,  laughing  against  his  will.  "On 
what  grounds  do  you  claim  it  ?" 

Kichard  looked  indignant. 

"  There,  now  !"  he  cried  ;  "that's  just  like  you.  You  are  the 
most  selfish  old  coon  I  ever  saw.  You  were  so  in  Boston,  you  are 
so  now,  you'll  ever  be  so.  What?  protest  against  my  pocketing 
this  well-earned  money  ?" 

"How  well-earned,  Richard  ?" 

"  Burlesque,  you  mean  dog  !  didn't  I  tell  you  a  nice  story  ?" 

"Agreed!" 

"  Didn't  you  and  I  bet  about  something  ?" 

"Agreed!" 

"  Henry,  what  was  it  about  ?"  * 

"Darned  if  I  know." 

Henry  was  very  drowsy. 

"That's  a  pity  !  But.  see  here,  'tis  all  the  same  thing.  I  know 
I  won,  and  that  ought  to  be  enough  between  gentlemen." 

"  Well,  I  don't  care  ;  you  may  pocket  the  stakes,  but  you  must 
finish  the  story.'.' 

"  If  that's  all,  here  it  goes." 

But  the  tongue  of  the  young  toper  had  by  this  time  become  so 
heavy  that  Burlesque  could  make  very  little  out  of  his  words. 
Nor  did  he  care.  He  knew  enough,  and,  allowing  the  two  revel 
lers  to  sleep  themselves  sober  on  the  floor  of  the  office  to  which  the 
law  of  gravity  naturally  attracted  them,  he  blew  out  the  lamps, 
and,  taking  for  his  part  the  comfortable  rocking-chair,  studied  on 
the  startling  revelations  of  his  former  friend  and  boon  companion 
until  his  eyes  also  became  heavy  and  he  fell  asleep. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

THE    * '  GREAT    TOUR." 


Burlesque  wanted  to  awake  in  time  to  send  his  companions 
home  and  remove  the  traces  of  their  orgies  before  day-light,  and 
with  it  the  arriving  workmen  would  notice  such  disorder.  He 
awoke  very  early.  It  was  not  easy  to  rouse  the  others  from  their 


DOLOKES.  361 

lethargy,  but  a  few  well  directed  kicks  and  blows  finally  answered 
the  purpose,  and  they  arose  from  the  floor,  stiff  from  their  uncom 
fortable  quarters  and  dirty  like  swine  that  have  wallowed  in  the 
mud.  They  were  not  in  the  very  best  of  humor,  and  instead  of 
taking  the  stiffness  of  their  joints  and  the  pain  in  their  heads  as  a 
very  moderate  punishment  for  their  excesses,  they  swore  and  cursed 
as  if  thereby  they  could  improve  their  condition.  Burlesque,  how 
ever,  did  not  stand  on  ceremony  that  morning  After  having 
brushed  their  soiled  clothes  he  opened  the  door  and  gave  them  to 
understand  that  it  would  be  to  their  interest  to  reach  their  beds  as 
soon  as  possible,  in  order  to  sleep  away  the  most  striking  traces  of 
last  night's  irregularities.  They  were  now  sober  enough  to  see  the 
propriety  of  this  advice  and  acting  upon  it  withdrew  from  the 
premises.  Burlesque  looked  after  them  with  contempt. 

"  Go  !"  he  said  with  a  scornful  motion  of  his  hand.  '•  I  have 
what  I  want,  and  now  throw  you  away  like  the  lemon  from  which 
the  juice  has  been  pressed.  Go  !  If  there  was  anything  of  a  re 
deeming  character  in  you  I  might  pity  you.  But,  no,  you  don't 
deserve  even  pity,  for  you  are  fit  subjects  of  contempt." 

Burlesque  followed  them  at  break  of  day.  He  found  Mrs. 
Fuchs  stirring.  From  her  looks  he  saw  that  she  was  aware  of  his 
absence  as  well  as  that  of  Henry  ;  but  before  she  could  speak,  the 
indignation  filling  her,  he  took  her  hand  and  said  : 

"  Mother  Barbara,  don't  scold,  for  I  do  not  deserve  it.  Don't 
ask  questions,  either,  and  be  satisfied  if  I  tell  you  that  one  Charlie 
is  working  for  the  other." 

After  those  words  he  nodded  and  sought  his  room.  There  he 
remained  long  enough  to  wash  and  dress  and  then,  leaving  the 
house,  took  the  road  leading  to  the  mansion.  It  was  very  early 
when  he  got  there  and  Mr.  Fox,  to  whom  he  was  announced,  won 
dered  what  so  unusual  a  visit  could  signify.  Yet,  he  admitted  his 
superintendent  and  remained  closeted  with  him  so  long  that  the 
servants  had  to  ring  the  breakfast  bell  half  a  dozen  times  without 
his  minding  it.  He  accompanied  Mr.  Burlesque  through  the  gar 
den  to  the  gate,  talking  to  him  in  such  an  eager  manner  that  the 
servants  racked  their  brains  to  know  what  in  the  world  such  inti 
macy  could  mean.  But  Mr.  Fox  was  deaf  to  all  hints  and  inqui 
ries  on  the  part  of  servants  as  well  as  members  of  the  family. 


362  DOLORES. 

After  breakfast  he  went  to  the  cottage,  from  the  cottage  to  the 
factory,  from  the  factory  to  the  mansion,  and  yet  he  merely  seemed 
to  have  reached  the  latter  place  for  the  purpose  of  making  the 
same  identical  tour  over  again. 

At  dinner,  increased  curiosity  on  the  part  of  the  ladies ;  im 
penetrable  smiles  on  the  face  of  Mr.  Fox.  Only  at  supper  that 
gentleman  vouchsafed  a  gracious  explanation  of  his  bustle. 

" My  dear,"  he  said,  bowing  to  Mrs.  Fox.  "Children,  I  have 
the  pleasure  to  announce  to  you  that  on  the  first  of  March  coming 
we  are  going  to  start  on  the  great  tour.  I  have  received  informa 
tion  of  a  business  character  which  makes  my  presence  in  France 
and  Italy  unavoidable.  We  have  been  talking  so  long  about  this 
tour  that  you  may  as  well  accompany  me,  for,  to  tell  the  honest 
truth,  I  dislike  to  grace  the  omnibuses,  railroad  cars  and  steamboat 
cabins  of  Europe  alone.  What  do  you  think  of  my  proposal  ? 
What  do  you  think  of  the  prospect  of  visiting  the  land  of 
ancient  lore,  the  Rhine,  the  Rhone  and  the  Po,  the  Arno  and  the 
Tiber  ?" 

On  the  pale  cheek  of  Dolores  a  faint  color  made  its  appearance, 
the  first  time  for  ever  so  long.  It  didn't  stay  long,  as  if  frightened 
at  its  own  boldness.  But  Mr.  Fox  had  seen  it,  and  Mrs.  Fox  had 
seen  it,  and  the  latter,  glad  at  her  husband's  announcement,  on  her 
own  accord  was  doubly  glad  on  perceiving  the  animating  influence 
which  the  mere  thought  of  the  voyage  had  on  her  darling.  She 
entered  with  a  lively  spirit  into  his  proposition,  and  spoke  with  so 
much  enthusiasm  of  the  pleasure  she  anticipated  that  Dolores 
found  it  impossible  to  harbor  for  a  moment  the  idea  that  the  whole 
affair  was  merely  a  novel  dose  of  medicine  for  her  debilitated 
system. 

"And  we  are  to  start  on  the  first  of  March?"  Mrs.  Fox  re 
sumed  for  the  twentieth  time.  "Dear  me,  children,  what  a  short 
time  to  get  our  wardrobes  all  arranged.  We  cannot  go  without  due 
prepai-ation,  and  I  may  as  well  tell  our  worthy  husband  and  father 
that  a  deep  grip  into  his  purse  will  be  necessary  to  procure  a  proper 
outfit." 

"  I  give  you  carte  blanche,"  Mr.  Fox  said  with  a  grace  which, 
alas  !  adorns  but  few  fathers  and  husbands,  and  a  more  becoming 
ornament  than  which  no  lady  wishes  in  her  husband  or  father. 


DOLOKES.  363 

Nor  did  the  ladies  in  the  mansion  fail  to  appreciate  such  noble  gen 
erosity,  and,  after  a  long  and  animated  discussion,  in  which  even 
Dolores  showed  a  more  lively  interest  than  usual,  it  was  resolved 
that  two  of  their  number  should  make  a  trip  to  Boston  in  the  com 
pany  and  under  the  protection  of  Mr.  Burlesque,  who,  they  cor 
rectly  thought,  would  be  capable  of  showing  them  the  best  sources 
for  procuring  the  various  articles  they  needed. 

Mrs.  Fox,  of  course,  was  to  form  one  of  the  two  delegates,  as 
her  experience  in  the  realm  of  fashion  could  not  possibly  be  spared. 
But  who  was  to  accompany  her  ?  Both  girls  could  not  well  go 
away.  True,  Mr.  Fox  volunteered  to  endure  the  hardships  of  sin 
gle  blessedness  for  a  week  or  so,  but  they  would  not  think  of  ac 
cepting  his  sacrifice,  and  the  problem  was  therefore  reduced  to  the 
question:  which  of  the  two  girls  was  to  stay  at  home?  They 
rivaled  in  generous  offers  ;  but  for  a  while  it  was  doubtful  who 
was  to  carry  off  the  palm.  At  last,  however,  Lucy,  taking  her 
sister's  hand,  looked  in  her  own  with  an  imploring,  tearful  look, 
saying  : 

"  Dear  Dolores,  for  my  sake,  go  !" 

Dolores  wras  so  astonished  at  this  sudden  manifestation  of  re 
turning  affection  that  for  a  moment  she  could  do  nothing  but  stare 
at  the  other  with  mute  surprise.  Then,  however,  recovering  from 
her  wonderment,  she  yielded  to  the  impulse  of  joy,  and,  throwing 
her  arms  around  Lucy's  neck,  she  said  : 

"Anything  you  please,  Lucy.  It  makes  me  happy  to  humor 
you." 

The  parents  looked  on  with  pleasure,  but  they  did  not  under 
stand  why  so  ordinary  an  event  should  be  made  the  occasion  of  a 
solemn  demonstration. 

The  reader,  however,  does  understand.  In  Lucy's  mind  the 
unhappy  issue  of  her  brother's  intrigue  had  aroused  the  most  bitter 
remorse.  As  long  as  Dolores  stood  in  the  bloom  of  health  and 
pride  and  strength  she  had  succeeded  in  hardening  her  heart 
against  her.  But  when  the  arrow  had  left  the  shaft ;  wrhen  it  had 
penetrated  to  her  heart  and  caused  the  poor  girl  to  wilt  like  a 
flower,  at  whose  root  a  worm  is  gnawing — then,  at  last,  Lucy  awoke 
from  her  trance.  Even  her  slighted  love  and  a  jealousy  so  natural 
under  the  circumstances  could  not  induce  her  to  rejoice  in  the  sud- 


364  DOLORES. 

den  and  fatal  change  in  Dolores'  appearance.  The  thought  that 
this  lingering,  wasting  fever  would- result  in  consumption,  and  that 
in  such  an  instance  she  might  justly  ascribe  to  her  agency  the  prin 
cipal  cause  of  her  rival's  early  death,  made  her  wretched. 

But,  though  these  thoughts  had  been  agitating  her  soul  ever 
since  the  fatal  Sunday,  she  had  managed  to  hide  every  trace  of  her 
emotions  from  Dolores  ;  so,  when  her  conversion  broke  through 
the  cover  with  the  suddenness  of  a  wildfire,  Dolores  could  hardly 
be  blamed  for  showing  such  little  preparation.  At  all  events,  she 
quickly  understood  the  motives  of  Lucy,  and,  helping  her  to  pass 
over  the  next  hours  with  her  wonted  good  tact,  she  managed  not 
only  to  keep  their  parents  in  ignorance  of  the  true  state  of  affairs, 
but  also  to  let  the  resumption  of  their  former  friendly  relation 
appear  so  much  the  matter  of  course  that  they  soon  ceased  to 
wonder. 

The  trip  to  Boston  was  made,  and  such  a  great  stock  of  the 
most  exquisite  tissues  of  silk,  wool  and  cotton  was  brought  back 
that  all  the  seamstresses  of  Foxville  were  kept  busy  day  and  night 
to  sew  the  numerous  articles  of  dress  to  be  finished  before  the  first 
of  March. 

It  was,  indeed,  a  busy  season.  Mr.  Fuchs  and  Miss  Sarah 
Goodman,  of  course,  were  not  only  consulted,  but  even  engaged, 
for  that  matter.  Dolores  was  greatly  benefited  by  this  bustle.  She 
had  no  time  and  no  place  to  pine,  and  the  healthy,  unceasing  work 
around  her  gave  a  healthy  tone  to  her  weakened  frame.  True,  she 
was  yet  far  from  regaining  that  former  elasticity  of  mind  and  body 
which  had  been  her  principal  charm  ;  but  the  feeble  glow  on  her 
cheeks  became  less  shy  and  at  last  suffered  itself  to  become  fastened 
there  permanently. 

Richard  was  the  only  one  in  the  family  who  did  not  share  in  the 
bustle  or  in  the  hilarity  thereby  awakened.  Mr.  Fox,  although  he 
had  promised  Dolores  to  forget  certain  under-currents  of  intrigue 
which  had  produced  this  deplorable  condition  of  affairs,  found  it  a 
more  difficult  task  than  he  had  imagined.  At  first  he  had  pon 
dered  a  good  deal  on  the  matter  and  received  a  tolerably  clear  im 
pression  of  the  part  which  both  his  children  had  played  in  the 
tragedy.  But,  while  he  blamed  Lucy  for  abetting,  he  condemned 
Richard  for  plotting,  and,  in  spite  of  all  efforts,  he  could  not  force 


DOLORES.  365 

himself  to  more  than  an  indifference  towards  the  young  man.  Even 
Mrs.  Fox  seemed  to  have  an  indistinct  perception  of  his  perfidy 
and  treated  him  less  warmly  than  before,  and  so  he  reaped  in  rich 
profusion  what  he  had  sown  with  such  great  expectations.  His 
accomplice  (Lucy)  shrank  from  him,  because  she  knew  his  wicked 
intentions  more  fully  than  the  others,  and  the  company  of  Henry 
was  no  great  source  of  satisfaction.  On  the  one  hand,  the  inmates 
of  the  cottage  showed  too  plainly  how  unacceptable  his  visits  were 
to  them  ;  on  the  other,  no  real  pleasure  can  ever  spring  from  friend 
ship  based  on  sin.  Such  amusement  is  like  the  counterfeit  light  of 
the  moon ;  it  shines,  but  there  is  no  warmth,  no  animation. 

Dolores — she  whom  he  had  so  deeply  injured — was  the  only  per 
son  who  now  showed  him  kindness.  At  meals,  at  night,  while  gath 
ered  round  the  fireside,  she  spoke  to  him  and  tried  to  draw  him 
into  the  general  conversation.  But  these  efforts,  so  well  meant, 
had  the  opposite  effect  from  that  intended.  Richard's  nature, 
though  depraved,  had  retained  sufficient  elements  of  goodness  to 
be  impressed  and  troubled  by  these  manifestations  of  generosity. 
Instead  of  benefiting  by  her  kind  advances,  he  shrank  from  her 
touch  as  if  her  hand  had  been  burning  fire.  There  was  a  great 
upheaving  in  his  inmost  being — he  went,  as  it  were,  through  the 
process  of  fermentation.  As  yet  the  dregs  were  not  ejected,  wildly 
the  conflicting  elements  of  his  nature  warred  within  his  heart,  and 
no  one  could  tell  which  would  gain  the  victory.  Indeed  nobody 
knew,  and  even  on  the  approach  of  March,  when  the  struggle  was 
over,  when  the  dregs  had  settled,  and  the  heart  of  the  young  man 
issued  purified  from  the  fearful  struggle,  nobody  in  the  house  had 
any  idea  of  his  change.  Kor  did  he  tell  them  ;  he  feared  nobody 
would  credit  his  professions,  and,  on  his  departure  to  his  vessel, 
which  fell  in  the  week  before  that  of  the  others,  he  took  with  him 
the  indifference  of  his  family  as  a  merited  punishment  for  his 
deeds.  Yet  he  was  not  hopeless.  Through  all  the  tedious  hours  of 
his  monotonous  calling  he  took  the  pleasant  anticipation  of  a  joy 
ful  reception  after  a  long  and  earnest  probation. 

A  lively  scene  preceded  the  departure  of  the  family.  Business 
had  nothing  to  do  with  it,  for  Mr.  Fuchs  and  Burlesque  had  long 
before  that  time  received  full  instructions  and  authority.  But  all 
the  neighbors  came  and  said  good-bye  ;  the  inmates  of  the  cottage 


366  DOLORES. 

and  the  parsonage,  of  course,  in  the  front  ranks.  Now  the  popu 
larity  of  the  family  could  be  plainly  seen.  If  this  tour  had  been 
undertaken  before  Mrs.  Fox's  sickness,  the  demonstrations  might 
not  have  been  so  numerous  nor  so  lively  ;  but  since  that  time  the 
changed  conduct  of  that  lady  had  gained  her  love  and  respect  a& 
warm  as  that  accorded  to  her  husband.  The  principal  share  how 
ever  fell  to  Dolores  who  was  the  idol  of  the  village.  If  I  have 
omitted  to  report  the  many  acts  of  Samaritan  kindness  by  which 
she  had  endeared  herself  to  the  hearts  of  the  people,  the  readers 
must  blame  the  narrow  scope  of  this  tale  and  not  my  disposition. 
The}  may  be  sure  that  such  acts  were  exceedingly  numerous  and 
the  fact  that  the  villagers  recollected  them  after  the  young  lady's 
protracted  absence  at  school,  is  an  eloquent  testimony  in  itself. 
During  the  late  winter  the  poor  child  had  net  been  seen  much;  but 
the  people  did  not  blame  her.  They  rather  pitied  her  and  loved 
her  the  more  for  her  distress.  Somehow  or  other  the  rumor  had 
spread  through  the  place — it  seems  that  people  have  an  intuitive 
perception  by  which  they  reach  conclusions — and  that  rumor  was 
not  far  from  the  truth.  Dolores  and  Charles  figured  in  these 
rumors  as  hero  and  heroine,  and  Richard  as  the  ogre,  who,  by  his 
wicked  charms,  separates  the  lovers.  Indeed  the  young  man  was 
made  to  feel  the  aversion  of  the  people  all  winter,  and  to  the  mo 
ment  of  his  departure  public  sentiment  condemned  him  by  word, 
look  and  gesture.  In  large  towns  individual  iniquity  disappears  in 
the  general  turmoil  or  is  neutralized  by  rank,  wealth  or  other  influ 
ences  ;  but,  although  flattery  and  adulation  live  in  villages  as  well 
as  cities,  the  vox  populi  is  there  generally  less  biased  by  outside 
circumstances. 

At  length  the  day  arrived  on  which  the  family  of  the  mansion 
were  to  leave.  They  were  glad  when  the  last  hand  was  shaken, 
the  last  adieu  spoken,  and  the  carriage  took  them  from  their  home 
to  the  depot.  Nothing  is  more  worrying  than  this  incessant  leave- 
taking,  and,  however  well  the  good-speeds  of  our  friends  may  be 
meant,  they  can,  under  such  circumstances,  annoy  us  as  much  as 
the  maledictions  of  our  enemies. 

The  depot  is  reached,  the  seats  are  taken,  the  train  rushes  them 
to  Boston,  and  in  the  harbor  the  Sea  Serpent  opens  its  hospitable 
quarters  to  the  party.  Staterooms  having  been  secured  beforehand, 


DOLORES.  367 

all  necessary  arrangements  were  completed  without  loss  of  time, 
and  the  next  morning,  when  the  steamer  began  to  push  her  mighty 
paddles  through  the  water  of  the  harbor,  our  friends  were  on  deck 
enjoying  the  beautiful  scenery  and  anticipating  even  greater  pleas 
ures  from  the  future.  Nor  were  they  disappointed.  Excepting  a 
few  squalls,  on  which  sea-sickness  knocked  at  the  cabin-door  of 
some  of  the  passengers,  they  were  favored  with  the  fairest  weather, 
and  the  nearer  they  came  to  the  coast  of  Europe  the  more  marked 
became  also  the  approach  of  spring.  We  cannot  afford  to  accom 
pany  the  family  on  their  tour,  cannot  examine  with  them  the  great 
cities  of  England  and  France,  nor  follow  all  their  steps  along  the 
romantic  Rhine.  Suffice  it  to  say  that,  having  reached  Switzer 
land,  they  ascended  higher  and  higher,  reaching  the  famous  peaks 
where  the  snow  never  melts,  and  thence  descended  into  the  classic 
vally  of  Italy. 

The  whole  company  had  longed  for  that  moment  with  a  rest 
lessness  of  which  they  themselves  were  probably  unconscious,  but 
which  had  surely  existed  and  in  a  measure  deprived  them  of  the 
pleasure  which  otherwise  they  might  have  found  in  viewing  so 
many  beauties  of  nature,  so  many  specimens  of  science,  art  and 
industry.  But,  once  in  Italy,  their  movements  began  to  be  more 
measured,  and,  having  reached  the  Lago  di  Gomo,  Mr.  Fox  rented 
an  old  villa,  which  was  sufficiently  well  furnished  to  permit  a  so 
journ  in  its  walls.  The  house  lay  on  the  lake  shore,  having  a  mag 
nificent  view  of  the  greater  portion  of  the  crystal  sheet  that  washed 
the  base  of  the  rock  on  which  it  was  built.  At  first  the  family 
missed  the  comforts  of  their  home,  for  the  nobleman  in  Italy  lives 
and  furnishes  his  house  often  more  plainly  than  the  American  me 
chanic  in  moderate  circumstances.  No  doubt  the  villa  which  they 
had  rented  had  once  been  inhabited  by  one  of  these  nobles,  such 
as  the  country  even  now  abounds  with,  like  our  forests  swarm  with 
locusts  in  years  particularly  favorable  to  the  development  of  those 
insects ;  but  the  race  had  died  out  long  ago,  or  by  some  cause  or 
other  been  driven  from  the  home  of  their  ancestors  ;  at  all  events, 
when  the  Foxes  rented  the  place  at  an  almost  nominal  rate,  they 
found  it  sadly  out  of  repair.  The  windows  had  not  only  lost  their 
shutters  or  ''jalousies,"  as  the  French  call  them  so  properly,  but 
many  of  their  panes  in  the  bargain,  and  when  Mr.  Fox  called  the 


368  DOLORES. 

landlord's  attention  to  their  defective  condition,  he  received  the 
information  that  this  circumstance  was  rather  an  advantage,  as  the 
draft  produced  would  mitigate  the  heat.  The  rest  of  the  house 
was  in  keeping  with  the  windows,  i.  e.,  in  the  landlord's  construc 
tion,  in  excellent  trim.  For  every  defect  he  found  an  excuse, 
actually  turning  it  into  a  merit,  so  that  on  his  departure  Mr.  Fox 
could  not  help  feeling  proud  of  his  new  habitation.  Dolores 
laughed  at  him,  and  that  heartily,  the  first  time  for  a  long,  long 
time,  and  so  pleased  was  her  father  at  hearing  this  long  missed 
music  that  he  declared  himself  greatly  indebted  to  the  landlord 
and  willing  to  undergo  a  second  trial  of  his  patience  with  even 
greater  meekness,  provided  Dolores  would  reward  him  in  a  similar 
manner.  Our  young  friend  had  at  once  become  of  even  greater 
consequence  here  than  at  home,  for  she  alone  was  enabled  by  her 
knowledge  of  the  native  tongue  to  interpret  the  wishes  of  the  fam 
ily  to  the  numerous  servants.  Numerous  indeed  !  Mr.  Fox  had 
engaged  a  host  of  them  just  for  fun.  There  was  the  butler  and 
the  steward,  the  master  of  ceremonies  and  the  porter,  the  male 
and  female  cook,  half  a  dozen  waiters,  the  coachman,  half  a  dozen 
housemaids,  and,  dear  knows  what  else.  The  first  memorandum  of 
Mr.  Fox  dated  from  Lago  di  Como  reads  as  follows  : 

Engaged  twenty -one  servants  to-day.  Amount  of  total  wages 
equal  to  those  of  John,  Jim  and  Susan  at  home.  Was  afraid  to 
have  my  ears  eaten  off  at  first,  but  they  tell  me  these  fellows  live 
on  air,  maccaroni  and  water.  If  that's  the  case  I  don't  mind  a 
dozen  more.  It  sounds  kind  of  big  when  I  write  to  the  folks  at 
home,  "  We  keep  house  now  with  only  three  dozen  servants." 

But  Mr.  Fox  wasn't  through  yet  with  his  experience.  Just  you 
wait  a  little  while  my  good  friend,  and  you  will  talk  in  a  different 

key. 

Mr.  Fox  did  not  make  great  pretensions  to  style  and  clearness 
in  his  diary ;  therefore  we  must  be  cautious  not  to  treat  our  readers 
with  too  many  specimens.  Fortunately  a  certain  young  lady  has 
resumed  a  habit  she  formed  at  school  and  if  she  succeeded  so  well 
in  the  prosaic  state  of  Maine  where  everything  bearing  the  name  of 
>/>//•//  is  under  a  ban,  we  certainly  have  reason  to  expect  that  the 
classic  ground  she  steps  on,  will  inspire  her  with  efforts  as  good  or 
even  better.  Let  this  be  as  it  may,  1  shall  allow  Dolores  to  tell  the 
rest  of  her  story  in  her  own  way.  We  copy  : 


DOLORES.  369 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

THE    DIARY    AGAIN. 

LAGO  DI  COMO,  July  25th,  1859. 

Here  we  are  and  quite  happy  too.  By  saying  we,  I  include  my 
humble  self.  Why  should  I  not  state  it  ?  Three  months  ago  I 
should  have  deemed  it  absolutely  impossible  that  I  could  call  my 
self  happy  once  more.  Indeed  I  sometimes  feel  angry  at  myself  for 
saying  or  rather  feeling  so.  Isn't  that  funny  ?  unhappy  for  being 
happy.  And  what  makes  me  so?  Nothing  in  particular  but  a 
good  many  things  together.  He  is  not  with  us  yet ;  but  I  rejoice 
in  the  thought  that  he  breathes  at  least  with  me  the  same  air.  Mrs. 
Fuchs  got  a  letter  from  him  just  the  week  before  our  departure 
from  Foxville,  dated  January  and  marked  Vienna,  and  containing 
the  information  that  he  intended  to  spend  this  season  exploring 
Italy.  He  must  be  here  then,  perhaps  near.  Oh  !  the  thought  is 
beautifying  and  excruciating  at  the  same  time.  How  will  the  first 
interview  turn  out  ?  What  will  he  say  ?  How  will  he  look  ?  Has 
he  got  his  mother's  letter  in  which  she  wrote  him  of  my  weakness  ? 
Indeed  no  woman  ever  fared  so  badly  as  I.  No  woman  ever  was 
required  to  cry  to  the  four  points  of  the  compass :  come  loved  one  ! 
here  I  am.  I  love  you,  please  requit  my  passion  !  That  is  the 
world  upside  down,  the  wooer  wooed. 

Now  there  !  castles  in  Spain  again  ?  I  trouble  myself  about 
what  may  come  and  forget  that  the  chances  are  in  favor  of  nothing 
happening  at  all.  True,  Mr.  Fuchs  has  written  to  the  various 
American  Consuls  in  the  Italian  cities,  and  as  every  person  has  to 
show  his  pass  here,  our  agents  may  find  a  trace  of  the  deserter. 
But  they  may  not  for  that  matter,  and  then  ?  A  blind  traveling 
here  and  there  ;  a  chance  crossing  or  diverging  of  our  trails,  and 
more  years  of  separation.  But  yet  I  cling  to  hope.  I  feel  as  if  I 
could  not  stand  a  second  disappointment ;  as  if  my  fund  of  physical 
strength  became  exhausted  when  away  from  him.  That  is  not  very 
flattering  ;  it  is  rather  humiliating ;  it  dissolves  into  vapor  that 
praise  insisting  on  making  me  an  original  character.  Ah  !  I  am  no 
sun  ;  I  am  a  moon,  at  best  a  planet  that  loses  all  productive  power 
as  soon  as  the  great  luminary  ceases  to  throw  light  and  sunshine  on 

24 


370  DOLORES. 

its  surface.  In  the  morning,  when  I  awaken,  and  in  the  night, 
when  I  retire,  my  thoughts,  my  wishes,  my  aspirations  are  Charles 
and  always  Charles.  Instead  of  counting  the  time  by  hours,  days 
and  weeks,  I  divide  it  into  such  which  I  was  forced  to  pass  without 
him  and  such  when  my  eyes  will  first  be  blessed  again  with  his 
sight.  Alas,  not  yet ! — 

*  *     *     I  am  in  Italy,  my  native  country.     True,  I  have  for 
gotten  the  customs  of  the  people,  but  I  remember  their  language 
and  now  as  I  move  amongst  our  servants  or  the  inhabitants  of  the 
surrounding  villages,  I  hear  their  talk,  and  listen  to  their  words  as 
one  would  listen  to  distant  bells,  carrying  a  well-known  air  sweetly 
but  indistinctly  through  the  air. 

*  *     *     ^ye  nave  a  host,  Of  servants  and  yet  hardly  any  at  all. 
I  had  to  laugh  at  father  for  making  that  very  same  remark. 

"I  do  not  know  how  it  is  Caroline,"  he  said  to  mother  this 
morning  with  a  perplexed  mein  ;  "  'with  all  our  help  we  are  more 
poorly  served  than  at  home.'" 

k* '  But  I  know  why  father, ' "  I  cried  when  ma  did  not  reply. 

"  <  Let's  hear  then,  Dol.'" 

' '  *  The  reason  is  that  we  haven't  all  these  servants  but  they  sus 
tain  that  relation  to  one  another.  You  recollect  the  story  of  the 
House  that  Ja<?k  built ? '" 

"  '  No,  child,  I  don't  think  that  I  do.'  " 

"What  pa!  not  know  the  story  of  the  '  'morn  and  the  priest 
all  tattered  and  torn,  that  married  the  maid,  that  milked  the  cow  with 
crumpled  horn'  " 

"  'Enough,  Dol!'  "  he  cried  with  a  laugh.  "  'I  know  now, 
and  I  shouldn't  wonder  you  were  right.  I  shall  no  longer  tolerate 
the  disposition  of  these  lazy  fellows  to  shift  their  responsibilites  on 
each  other's  shoulders.'  ' 

Pa  went  out  in  a  rage  and  I  was  highly  amused  when  he  con 
voked  his  host  of  servants,  paid  them  their  wages  a  week  in  ad 
vance  and  told  one  half  of  them  that  he  would  dispense  with  their 
services.  They  all  understood  the  first  part  of  the  speech  first  rate; 
but  when  it  came  to  the  second,  papa  Fox  had  to  secure  my  assist 
ance  to  convince  these  obtuse  fellows  of  the  fact  that  in  the  future 
we  should  be  able  to  get  along  without  their  valuable  help.  At  last 
I  made  them  understand,  however,  but  such  crying  and  lamenting  1 


DOLORES.  371 

such  promises  of  doing  better,  such  invocations  of  all  the  saints  and 
higher  powers  that  our  cruelty  would  deprive  a  dozen  children  of  a 
chance  of  living  !  Fortunatly  Mr.  Fox  received  these  lamentations 
through  me,  else  that  dear  good  gentleman  would  have  been  shaken 
in  his  purposes  in  less  than  no  time.  But  I,  becoming  stern  for 
once,  bade  them  be-gone  without  delay. 

They  obeyed,  in  fact  they  are  like  little  children  and  so  differ 
ent  from  our  American  servants  that  one  can  hardly  mention  them 
both  in  the  same  way.  It  must  be  their  education,  their  govern 
ment,  yes,  the  very  air  they  breathe.  The  air  affects  me  similarly . 
1  run  about  and  spring  and  dance  and  chase  butter-flies  like  a  per 
fect  school  girl,  or  rather  an  imperfect  one ;  for  in  America  a  girl 
in  her  teens  would  be  ashamed  to  cut  up  as  I  do.  Indeed  I  ought 
to  be  ashamed  too  for  feeling  so  jubilant,  considering  that  it  is  my 
duty  to  be  sedate  or  sad  or  even  miserable  because  he  isn't  here. 
But  then  I  do  not  feel  happy  on  account  of  the  present,  it  is  the  an 
ticipation  of  something,  or  somebody  coming!  coming!  Indeed  I 
shouldn't  feel  surprised  if  he  were  to  step  this  very  moment  into  my 
presence.  I  can  hardly  explain  the  nature  of  my  feeling,  but  it 
seems  to  me  as  if  I  see  him  with  a  mental  eye ;  as  if  a  spirit  hand 
were  going  from  my  soul  towards  him,  leading  him  nearer  and  nearer 
until  at  last  he  stands  in  the  presence  of  his  happy  Dolores. 

*  *  *  This  morning  father  is  going  to  leave  us  for  awhile. 
He  is  going  to  make  a  trip  to  Turin,  on  business  he  says,  with  a 
mysterious  mem  in  answer  to  our  inquiries.  We  wanted  him  to  take 
us  along,  just  to  tease  him,  but  no,  he  cannot  be  bothered  with  a  lot 
of  troublesome  woman  on  a  business  excursion,  he  says.  Besides 
he  thinks  we  ought  to  rest  a  little,  and  keep  our  good-for-nothing 
ragamuffins  in  a  wholesome  perspiration.  They  are  just  learning  to 
shift  their  feet  he  says,  and  be  wouldn't  for  the  world  go  through 
the  process  of  training  them  again.  There  is  enough  remaining  to 
be  done  in  that  line  heaven  knows,  he  complains,  to  make  the 
thought  of  re-commencing  perfectly  preposterous. 

So  we  of  course  submit  with  a  good  grace,  but  then,  being 
women,  we  rack  our  brains  in  order  to  find  out  what  business  he 
possibly  can  have  in  Turin.  He  looked  at  me  with  a  significant 
glance.  Can  he  possibly  intend  to  make  inquiries  concerning  my 
relations  ? 


372  DOLORES. 

*  *  *  Father  has  gone  and  I  made  use  of  my  increased 
leisure  this  afternoon  to  make  an  excursion  along  the  lake  shore  in 
company  wkh  Antonio,  our  servant.  I  wanted  Lucy  to  go  along, 
but  she  excused  herself  on  a  plea  of  being  busy.  I  think  she  told 
a  little  fib  though.  Miss  Lucy  shares  the  aversion  of  most  her 
country-women  to  walking  more  than  is  absolutely  necessary.  If 
we  could  have  taken  the  carriage,  she  would  have  gone  with  me. 
But  no  indeed,  when  I  take  an  airing  I  don't  want  the  horses  and 
coachman  to  share  the  fun.  I  should  have  left  Antonio  at  home  if 
it  had  not  been  for  the  many  vagabonds  that  loiter  about.  The 
war  they  say,  has  largely  increased  their  number  and  that  it  is  un 
safe  for  a  lady  to  go  without  protection.  Mother  insisted  on  Anto 
nio's  going  and  to  keep  from  alarming  her,  I  yielded  and  departed 
without  discussing  the  question.  Is  Antonio  any  protection  ? 

The  walk  was  beautiful ;  we  followed  the  winding  lake  shore, 
and  even  now  I  revel  in  the  recollection  of  so  many  charms.  We 
must  have  gone  four  miles  from  home  and  that  was  farther  than  T 
intended  to  go  ;  but,  then,  one  new  point  of  beauty  chased  the 
other,  alluring  me  on  and  further  on,  so  that  at  last  it  required  a 
firm  resolution  to  turn  my  head  and  retrace  my  steps.  The  latter 
expression  is  hardly  correct,  though  ;  Antonio  told  me  of  another 
road  higher  up  the  hills  that  would  take  us  home  and  allow  more 
extensive  views  of  the  lake  and  the  distant  shores  beyond.  Of 
course,  I  told  him  to  lead  me  on  to  it,  and,  in  consequence,  had 
two  adventures,  one  pleasant  and  the  other  rather  less  so.  After 
we  had  climbed  a  path  winding  up  the  hillside  we  reached  the  new 
road  and,  indeed,  were  amply  paid  for  our  trouble.  The  views  lost 
the  charming  details  of  those  on  the  lower  road,  but  they  more 
than  compensated  by  their  grandeur  and  expanse.  Far  across  the 
lake  a  castle  rose  in  the  air  with  such  a  brilliant  whiteness  that  it 
attracted  my  attention.  I  asked  Antonio  whose  it  was.  He  said  it 
belonged  to  the  Duke  di  Gatana.  Gatana!  \Vhat  recollections 
that  name  awakened  in  me  !  My  name  !  If  my  poor  dead  father's 
patriotic  efforts  had  been  crowned  with  success  how  differently 
would  my  destiny  have  shaped  itself  !  I  would  now  dwell  in  pal 
aces  and  receive  the  homage  of  hundreds.  I  would  be  a  duchess 
and  wear  a  crown,  a  real  crown,  and  be  admitted  to  court.  But, 
then,  would  I  be  happier  ?  Would  I  even  now  exchange  if  such 


DOLOEES.  373 

exchange  lay  in  my  power  ?  Not  I !  For  it  was  the  exile  who 
found  Charlie  ;  it  was  the  exile  that  gained  his  love  and  learned  to 
return  it,  and  for  all  the  castles  in  the  world  I  would  not  sell  the 
thought.  Charles,  good,  noble  Charles,  belongs  to  me !  he  is  my 
own,  my  property — a  domain  that  no  sovereign  king  can  show ! 
No,  I  do  not  want  my  duchy  back,  if,  in  receiving  it,  I  must  give 
up  my  love.  Yet  I  should  like  to  visit  that  castle.  I  wonder 
whether  it  is  the  one  in  which  my  parents  used  to  live  ?  I  should 
also  like  to  see  the  duke,  the  new  duke  ;  for,  undoubtedly,  the  do 
mains  of  my  ancestors  have  been  bestowed  upon  some  faithful 
follower  of  the  government. 

These  reflections  and  many  more  engaged  my  attention  to  such 
a  degree  that  I  stood  some  time — I  do  not  know  how  long — gazing 
at  the  castle  in  total  oblivion  of  my  surroundings.  All  at  once, 
however,  I  was  recalled  to  reality  in  rather  a  startling  manner.  I 
felt  somebody  taking  hold  of  my  skirt  behind  me,  and  when  I 
turned  abruptly  to  see  the  intruder  and  chastise  his  temerity,  I 
looked  right  into  a  face  well  calculated  to  create  alarm.  The  per 
son  that  had  thus  rudely  drawn  my  attention  to  himself  was  a  tall, 
wild-looking  man,  with  hardly  sufficient  clothing  to  cover  his  pow 
erful  body.  A  low-crowned  felt  hat  sat  sideways  on  masses  of 
black  dishevelled  hair  and  a  pair  of  sparkling  and  dismal-looking 
eyes  shone  from  under  shaggy  brows.  I  was  frightened  at  his  sight, 
and  my  face  must  have  betrayed  my  fear,  for  he  smiled  with  a  sin 
ister  satisfaction  which  forebode  me  nothing  good. 

"  What  do  you  want?"  I  asked  him,  summoning  all  the  courage 
I  could  command.  At  the  same  time  I  looked  around  for  my  ser 
vant.  He  had  disappeared. 

My  question,  spoken  in  fluent  Italian,  seemed  to  startle  the  man. 
He  had  undoubtedly  expected  me  to  be  a  foreign  lady,  such  as  fre 
quent  that  region  in  large  numbers  during  the  fair  season,  and  it 
struck  me  that  I  might  get  rid  of  him  by  feigning  to  be  a  native, 
which,  in  reality,  I  am. 

The  man  -stepped  back  a  step. 

"Excuse  me,"  he  said,  touching  his  hat  with  the  grace  of  a 
grandee  ;  "  is  signora  Italian  ?" 

"  Of  course  I  am,  my  friend  ;  what  makes  you  ask  ?" 

' '  I  thought  you  were  with  the  foreign  family  in  the  old  castle.1 


374  DOLORES. 

"  So  I  am,  but  I  am  not  their  daughter.  I  am  an  Italian,  and 
an  orphan,  too,  at  that.  But  what  do  you  wish  of  me?" 

I  thought  it  would  be  well  to  invoke  his  compassion,  as  courage 
and  pluck  could  avail  but  little  against  so  powerful  an  adversary. 
My  manoeuvre  had  the  desired  effect,  for  the  conduct  of  the  man 
became  more  and  more  civil,  and,  touching  his  hat  a  second  time, 
he  said  : 

"If  you  are  Italian,  madam,  I  do  not  want  anything,  except 
you  feel  disposed  to  favor  me  with  a  gift.  There  are  enough  for 
eigners  we  can  plunder.  I  am  too  good  a  patriot  to  raise  my  hand 
against  a  daughter  of  my  country." 

"Then  you  are  a  brigand  ?"  I  asked,  considerably  assured  by 
his  polite  conduct,  handing  him  at  the  same  time  my  little  purse. 
He  received  it  with  a  polite  bow,  and,  slipping  it  into  his  pocket, 
said  : 

"  That  name  the  sbirri  bestow  us  ;  but  we  do  not  like  it ;  we 
call  ourselves  the  knights  of  the  highway.91 

"  And  you  are  permitted  to  carry  on  your  dangerous  profession 
so  openly  ?" 

The  brigand — for  that  he  was,  in  spite  of  his  love  for  romantic 
names — the  brigand,  I  say,  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Who  will  hinder  us?"  he  said.  "The  hotel-keeper,  the  grocer, 
the  milk-vender,  the  servant— they  all  follow  our  trade,  robbing 
the  stranger  continually  in  the  most  legitimate  manner — why,  then, 
forbid  us  the  innocent  pastime  of  robbing  a  little  once  in  a  while  ? 
In  fact,  those  confederates  I  mentioned  do  not  begrudge  us  the 
mite  we  take  from  their  victims.  They  acknowledge  our  claims, 
and,  as  to  the  sbirri — bah  !  I  care  that  much  for  all  their  enmity." 

He  snapped  his  fingers,  and  I  must  confess  that  I  began  to  look 
at  the  fellow  with  quite  different  eyes.  I  had  read  so  much  about 
these  brigands  and  their  tincture  of  romance  ;  but  to  read  about  a 
robber  and  to  meet  one  are  very  different  things.  I  wanted  to  ben 
efit  by  this  opportunity  and  ask  several  other  questions  concerning 
their  daring  calling  and  mode  of  living,  but  my  brigand  cut  me 
short. 

"Excuse  me,  signora,  if  I  must  refuse  to  converse  with  you 
any  longer.  Although  I  despise  the  sbirri,  one  ought  not  to  chal 
lenge  fate.  Moreover,  I  warn  you  against  myself.  When  I  said 


DOLORES.  375 

that  I  did  not  feel  disposed  to  rob  a  countrywoman  I  did  not  know 
that  those  superb  eyes  of  yours  are  on  the  best  way  of  stealing  my 
heart.  I  advise  you,  signora,  to  depart ;  Luigi  has  not  the  reputa 
tion  of  being  a  very  tame  lover." 

I  shuddered  inwardly,  although  I  was  strong  enough  to  keep 
up  an  outward  appearance  of  composure.  Thanking  the  man  for 
liis  considerate  treatment,  I  bade  him  goodbye  and  pursued  the 
road,  which  I  knew  would  take  me  to  our  home.  I  did  not  ven 
ture  to  walk  fast,  for  fear  the  brigand  would  notice  unfavorably 
my  desire  of  escaping  from  his  presence.  Still,  the  distance  be 
tween  us  increasing  gradually,  I  began  to  feel  easier  and  to  notice 
once  more  the  beauties  of  the  country.  While  thus  engaged  my 
-eye  was  all  at  once  attracted  by  the  sight  of  Mr.  Antonio,  who  fol 
lowed  me  with  such  an  unconcern  that,  instead  of  getting  angry, 
I  could  only  laugh  at  the  brazen-faced  fellow,  who  dared  to 
show  himself  after  having  so  meanly  forsaken  me  in  the  hour  of 
peril. 

"What  do  you  want  here,  Antonio?"  I  asked,  after  a  good 
laugh,  summoning  all  the  sternness  then  at  my  command. 

"  Go  home  with  you,"  was  the  unconcerned  reply. 

"What!  after  your  dastardly  conduct?  I  shall  tell  Mr.  Fox 
of  your  bravery,  and  he  will  chase  you  from  the  house  as  soon  as 
he  comes  back." 

Antonio  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"What  do  you  want ?"  he  said  with  the  mien  of  an  injured 
man  ;  "you  don't  expect  me  to  expose  myself  to  the  rage  of  the 
famous  Luigi  ?" 

"  So  you  know  the  gentleman  ?     Who  is  this  Luigi  ?" 

' '  The  greatest  brigand  in  northern  Italy:  Did  you  never  hear 
of  Luigi?" 

Fortunately,  I  hadn't,  for  if,  on  hearing  his  name,  I  had  known 
all  the  stories  of  that  robber's  gallantry,  cunning,  cruelty  and  dar 
ing  with  which  Antonio  entertained  me  on  the  rest  of  our  way 
home,  I  don't  think  I  should  have  had  the  strength  to  retain  that 
composure,  which,  in  connection  with  my  knowledge  of  Italian, 
saved  me  from  his  hands.  When  I  think  of  the  whole  affair  I 
cannot  help  remarking  that  if  the  American  servants  excel  the 
Italian  ontes  I  see  myself  compelled  to  award  the  prize  to  the  Italian 


376  DOLORES. 

robbers  in  preference  to  our  own.  I  must  laugh  when  I  imagine 
myself  face  to  face  with  the  scum  of  society  that  represent  the 
fraternity  of  the  United  States.  I  fear  I  would  hardly  have  re 
ceived  from  them  an  equally  considerate  treatment.  My  brigand 
is  surrounded  with  something  like  a  halo  in  my  remembrance, 
though  I  am  not  at  all  prepared  to  assert  that  polish  and  courtesy 
make  vice  less  vicious.  Perhaps  they  may  have  the  effect  of  mak 
ing  it  less  repulsive,  and  it  is  as  yet  an  open  question  whether  that 

is  productive  of  better  morals  or  worse 

*  *  *  Since  the  above  adventure  I  am  a  little  more  careful 
in  the  selection  of  means  to  gratify  my  passion  for  nature  and  her 
beauties.  I  do  not  go  further  than  the  village,  where  more  or  less 
persons  surround  me  all  the  time,  and  when  I  have  exhausted  the 
views  from  the  shore  I  take  the  little  boat  and,  either  alone  or  in 
mother's  and  Lucy's  company,  row  on  the  crystal  flood.  I  used  to 
have  a  reputation  for  sketching  in  school;  and  now,  for  the  first 
time  I  feel  the  full  importance  of  a  gift  like  that.  Every  day  I 
transfer  one  or  two  scenes  to  my  paper,  and,  thanks  to  my  assiduity, 
I  have  already  accumulated  a  handsome  selection.  I  am  now 
painting  a  view  from  my  window  in  Sepia  as  a  present  for  father 
when  he  returns.  By  the  by,  he  has  been  absent  now  fo»  more 
than  a  week  and  we  have  not  had  the  slightest  sign  of  lifs*  from, 
him.  I  cannot  help  thinking  of  Mr.  Luigi  and  his  associates, 
though,  of  course,  I  keep  my  thoughts  most  carefully  to  myself. 
It  would  make  mother  nervous  and  restless  to  imagine  her  husband 
in  the  slightest  danger.  Ever  since  that  memorable  sickness  she 
perfectly  dotes  on  him,  and  it  is  no  wonder,  for  he  carries  her 
always,  so  to  speak,  on  his  hands.  Of  course,  I  never  told  my 
adventure  to  her  or  Lucy  for  reasons  obvious  ;  if  I  had  they  could 
not  help  sharing  my  thoughts. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

A    JOURNEY    AND    ITS    CONSEQUENCES. 

Here  the  diary  abruptly  ends,  for  reasons  which  the  readers- 
may  by  and  by  discern  themselves.     Failing  to  gain  any  informa- 


DOLORES.  377 

tion  from  our  heroine  herself,  we  can,  perhaps,  do  nothing  better 
than  return  to  the  moment  of  Mr.  Fox's  departure,  and,  using  our 
free  pass,  as  the  author  and  his  friends  enter  with  him  the  carriage 
that  takes  him  to  the  place  where  a  railroad  facilitates  a  more  rapid 
journey  to  the  capital.  When  we  started  it  was  early  in  the  morn 
ing,  and  when  the  steeples  of  Turin  became  visible  in  the  distance 
another  morning  had  just  been  ushered  in.  Mr.  Fox  and  his  sec 
retary  were  not  overloaded  with  baggage,  and  so  they  succeeded 
without  much  delay  in  reaching  a  hotel.  There,  after  the  neces 
sary  ablutions  and  a  meal,  which  fitted  them  for  business,  Mr.  Fox 
sent  for  one  of  the  waiters.  When  the  man  came  the  guest  in 
quired  through  his  famulus  : 

"  My  friend,  do  you  happen  to  know  whether  the  Duke  di 
Gatana  is  in  the  city  ?" 

' '  I  cannot  serve  your  excellency  ;  but  I  can  show  your  excel 
lency  his  palace  if  that  will  be  of  any  service." 

"  It  will  answer.  If  you'll  show  us  the  palace  we  can  pursue 
our  inquiries  in  person.  Where,  then,  does  it  lie?" 

"  Your  excellency  can  see  it  from  the  window.  It  is  across  the 
place.  Does  your  excellency  notice  that  large  building  over 
there?" 

"Exactly." 

'^  Well,  that  is  the  palace.  If  your  excellency  will  wait  a  few 
minutes  I  can  easily  ascertain  whether  the  family  is  in  the  city." 

The  waiter  was  already  at  the  door,  overlooking  the  energetic 
"nevermind!"  of  Mr.  Fox.  He  flies,  he  returns,  he  is  already 
back  and,  with  a  quickened  breath  that  shows  the  greatness  of  his 
exertion,  reports  that  his  grace,  the  duke,  is  not  only  in  the  city, 
but  also  at  home,  and  that  his  excellency  will  no  doubt  be  received 
if  he  takes  the  trouble  of  calling. 

"  Come,  James,  let  us  see  whether  his  excellency  will  have  the 
condescension  to  receive  us." 

James  is  one  of  those  men  who,  living  in  a  foreign  country,, 
benefit  by  their  knowledge  of  several  languages  to  tap  the  pockets- 
of  wealthy  travelers  by  acting  in  the  capacity  of  interpreter.  Mr. 
Fox  had  engaged  James  in  Switzerland,  the  great  vortex,  where  all 
nations  send  their  streams  of  travelers.  Dolores  had  volunteered 
to  perform  the  duties  of  interpreter  herself ;  but  Mr.  Fox  had  his 


378  DOLORES. 

own  reasons  for  declining  her  offer.  He  wanted  to  experiment  on 
her  chances  for  the  duchy,  and,  in  case  of  failure,  hide  the  whole 
attempt  from  her  knowledge.  Therefore,  he  had  suffered  himself 
to  be  taken  in  tow  by  Mr.  James  Fitzgerald. 

Arriving  at  the  portal  of  the  palace,  Mr.  Fox  handed  his  card 
to  a  porter,  and  was  conducted  into  an  ante-chamber  to  await  the 
duke's  pleasure. 

After  the  expiration  of  a  few  moments  a  servant  appeared 'and 
requesting  the  visitors  to  follow  him,  led  the  way  to  the  interior  of 
the  house  and  up  a  flight  of  stairs  into  the  second  story.  Every 
where  marks  of  great  wealth  met  Mr.  Fox's  eyes,  and  that  gentle 
man  couldn't  help  thinking,  what  a  nice  thing  it  would  be  if  Dol 
ores  could  all  at  once  step  into  such  riches.  He  was  not  through 
yet  with  this  pleasant  thought  when  the  servant  ushered  them  into 
a  chamber  and  announced  : 

"  Signer  Foggs  and  secretary  !  " 

Mr.  Fox  preceived  a  man  whose  resemblance  to  the  dying  min 
strel,  and  even  to  Dolores,  proved  him  to  be  the  Duke.  He  was  a 
handsome  man  of  about  forty  years  of  age  and  would  have  made  a 
pleasant  enough  impression  on  the  visitor,  if  the  face  had  not  been 
too  much  drawn  into  lines  of  haughty  reserve  and  the  eyes  had  glanc 
ed  through  the  lids  with  less  sharpness.  As  it  was,  Mr.  Fox  was  not 
favorably  impressed  and  at  once  made  up  his  mind  that  with  sifch  a 
person  nothing  but  rigid  exaction  and  unbending  firmness  would 
answer  the  purpose.  Therefore,  when  the  duke  arose  and  saluted 
the  stranger  with  cold  formality,  Mr.  Fox  bowed  with  a  stiffness 
that  seemed  to  say  : 

"Just  as  you  please,  sir.  We  in  America  can  stand  as  well  on 
our  dignity  as  any  Italian  duke." 

"Be  seated,"  said  the  duke,  "what  gives  me  the  pleasure  of 
this  call?" 

"  I  accept  your  civility,  for  what  I  have  to  tell  you  cannot  be 
said  in  a  second.  I  come  from  the  United  States,  sir,  the  asylum 
of  most  of  your  exiled  countrymen." 

When  this  remark  ,was  interpreted  to  the  duke,  he  started 
slightly  and  his  eye  looked  at  the  visitor  with  double  keenness,  to 
ascertain  whether  his  words  conveyed  any  hidden  meaning. 

"Yes,  I  know  Signor  Foggs,  or  Fuggo — or — " 


DOLORES.  379 

"Fox,  sir." 

"  Ah  !  Foggs  then.  Your  visit,  1  was  going  to  say,  has  hardly 
the  purpose  of  manifesting  your  sympathy  with  those  countrymen 
of  mine  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  not  a  bit  of  it,  not  a  bit  of  it.  Or,  rather,  yes  I  do 
mean  to  show  my  sympathy  for  one  of  them  at  least." 

"  Please  explain,  sir." 

The  duke  smiled  a  supercilious  smile. 

"  Never  you  fear,  Sir  Duke,  I  am  coming  right  to  the  point. 
The  man  I  allude  to  is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  former 
duke,  your  brother." 

"  Mr.  Fox  had  the  pleasure  to  see  that  his  straightforwardness 
was  not  without  the  desired  effect  upon  the  host.  The  hand  which 
rested  on  the  back  of  the  chair  from  which  he  had  risen,  grasped 
that  back  more  firmly  to  hide  a  slight  trembling  and  the  other  hand 
fidgeted  up  and  down  the  buttons  of  his  vest.  He  evidently  did  not 
know  what  to  reply  and  so  chose  the  expedient  of  remaining  silent. 
Mr.  Fox  continued  : 

"  I  am  happy  to  say,  that  the  duke  had  full  confidence  in  my 
integrity  and  that  he  intrusted  me  with  the  keeping  of  the  most 
important  documents.  These  documents  involve  the  inheritance  of 
all  his  estates  and  you  will  hardly  wonder,  sir,  that  I  thought  best 
to  attend  to  such  important  business  in  person.  In  other  words  you 
see  in  me  the  deputy  or  plenipotentiary  of  the  duke,  to  arrange 
with  you  the  proper  means  of  settling  the  succession  and  other 
matters  appertaining  to  his  former  posessions." 

Mr.  Fox  had  on  purpose  spoken  somewhat  pompously,  partly  to 
to  average  the  duke's  supercilious  reception,  partly  to  impress  him 
with  the  conviction  that  he  had  to  deal  with  a  man  of  consequence. 
Nor  did  his  purpose  fail  him.  While  listening  to  these  sudden  and 
unexpected  revelations,  the  duke  had  become  more  and  more  pale- 
He  had  made  no  effort  to  interrupt  the  stranger;  nor  did  he  speak 
at  once  after  he  had  finished  ;  but  finally,  as  if  aware  of  the  neces 
sity  of  saying  something  in  return,  he  answered  in  an  uncertain 
tone  of  voice : 

"My  brother,  the  Duke;  I  was  laboring  under  the  impression 
that  he  was  dead.  At  least  my  efforts  to  find  a  trace  of  him  were 
idle.  I  continued  them  for  years  and  finally  gave  them  up  because 


380  DOLORES. 

convinced  of  the  utter  hopelessness  of  their  continuance.     So  you 
bring  word  from  him  ?  ' ' 

"Yes,  sir,  though  a  message  from  the  grave." 

"  Hah  !  you  trifle  with  my  feelings,  sir !  Beware  or  you  may 
learn  at  your  cost  that  the  Duke  di  Gatana  is  not  to  be  played 
with." 

Mr.  Fox  remained  unmoved.  Duke  or  not  duke,  that  was 
rather  indifferent  to  his  republican  nature. 

''You  are  mistaken  if  you  think  that  I  am  playing,  sir,"  he 
said.  "  I  am  in  dead  earnest.  If  the  duke  is  not  living  his  right 
ful  heir  is,  and  that  is  the  same  thing  to  all  effects  and  purposes — 
is  it  not,  sir?" 

The  alarm  of  the  other  began  anew.  Yet  he  tried  more  eva 
sions. 

"Perhaps  you  are  not  aware,  sir  stranger,  that  the  domains  of 
the  duke,  my  brother,  were  confiscated  by  the  government  on  ac 
count  of  certain  revolutionary  attempts  of  his  ?" 

I  am  aware  of  that,  and  also  of  the  fact  that  the  property  was- 
restored  after  the  war." 

"And  this  son  of  the  exile,  this  nephew  of  mine — wThere  is  he 
now?" 

"  You  are  mistaken  again  by  imagining  that  the  heir  is  a  son. 
It  is  a  daughter,  sir,  and  she  has  been  educated  in  my  house.  It 
seems  that  these  communications  are  not  very  welcome  to  your 
grace  ;  but,  I  assure  you,  if  you  could  see  the  young  lady — the 
most  lovely  and  perfect  woman  my  eye  ever  rested  upon — you 
would  rejoice  in  the  thought  that  she  is  your  kin." 

The  brow  of  the  Italian  cleared  up  a  little  on  this  communica 
tion.  A  girl !  There  was  solace  in  that  thought.  A  beautiful 
girl !  that  was  better  yet.  He  had  a  son,  and  by  uniting  the  two 
branches  of  the  house,  he  might  still  retain  the  princely  posses 
sions  in  his  family.  But  that  man  might  be  an  impostor.  True, 
an  inner  voice  told  him  the  contrary  ;  but  still  he  might  be,  or  he 
might  be  lacking  the  means  of  proving  his  bold  assertions.  In 
such  a  case  the  duke  could  easily  maintain  his  position  against  an 
obscure  stranger  and  his  ward.  Yes,  it  was  worth  the  trial. 

"What  you  say  there,  signor,  sounds  fair  enough;  but  you 
can  hardly  expect  that  I  should  credit  the  words  of  a  stranger  who 


DOLOKES.  381 

tells  me  of  the  discovery  of  a  niece.  I  suppose  you  are  prepared 
to  substantiate  your  assertions  with  sufficient  proof  ?" 

"That  is,  you  suppose,  I  am  not  prepared,"  Mr.  Fox  muttered 
to  himself.  Then,  raising  his  voice,  he  said  : 

"  Such  a  supposition  is  entirely  correct,  sir  duke.  I  have  with 
me  the  copies  of  papers  which  prove  the  descent  of  Dolores  be 
yond  a  doubt.  Here  they  are,  signor,  subject  to  your  examina 
tion.  Recollect,  these  papers  are  mere  copies." 

Mr.  Fox  said  this  with  a  cunning  smile  that  showed  plainly  how 
little  confidence  he  placed  in  the  integrity  of  a  man  that  mani 
fested  such  reluctance  to  receive  a  brother's  daughter  because  she 
threatened  to  assert  her  rights.  The  duke  understood;  but  he 
merely  bit  his  lips,  and,  receiving  the  copy  of  the  documents,  ran 
his  eye  over  them  with  haste  and  eagerness.  The  stranger  was 
right.  If  the  original  papers  were  really  in  his  possession — and 
the  knowledge  of  the  name  Dolores  seemed  to  warrant  it — it  would 
be  vain  to  show  an  open  fight  against  such  proofs.  Open  fight ! 
His  mind  dwelt  on  this  thought,  and  in  a  moment  the  duke  had 
resolved  upon  a  different  policy.  His  forehead  became  smooth  ; 
his  eyes  lost  their  stinging  sharpness  ;  his  mouth  was  wreathed  in 
smiles,  and,  stepping  forward  and  extending  his  right  hand  to 
wards  the  stranger,  he  said,  with  great  politeness : 

"  Signor  Foggs  you  have  conquered  me.  Will  you  accept  the 
hand  of  a  man  whose  duty  it  was  to  doubt  until  convinced  ?" 

Mr.  Fox  was  surprised  at  this  sudden  change  ;  but  the  duke 
appealed  to  his  fairness,  and  such  an  appeal  is  irresistible*  to  an 
upright  man.  So  our  friend,  without  hesitation,  accepted  and 
shook  the  proffered  hand,  and,  in  a  few  words,  expressed  his  satis 
faction  at  the  other's  change. 

The  duke  now  invited  his  guests  to  a  seat,  and,  ringing  the  bell, 
ordered  refreshments. 

"You  must  really  pardon  my  reserve,  signor,"  he  said.  "I  am 
beset  by  so  many  adventurers  that  I  can  hardly  be  sufficiently  care 
ful  against  their  snares.  But  a  fair  man  confesses  his  mistake, 
and  I  am  glad  to  assure  you  that  I  do.  Here,  signor,  do  me  the 
favor  to  accept  a  glass  of  wine  grown  on  my  own  soil.  If  it  isn't 
the  best  in  the  world  there  is  certainly  much  that's  inferior." 


382  DOLORES. 

"It  is  excellent,  sir  duke.  Permit  me  to  empty  this  glass  to 
your  health." 

"  Let  us  rather  drink  the  health  of  her  whom  I  am  now  anxious 
to  call  my  niece.  I  hope  you  have  not  left  her  beyond  the  ocean?'' 

"No,  sir,  my  whole  family  accompanies  me  on  this  journey. 
You  see,  I  reckon  Dolores  as  a  member  of  my  family." 

"I  doubt  not  that  she  fully  appreciates  that  honor.  You  must 
at  some  more  propitious  moment  tell  me  her  story,  which  is  ro 
mantic  enough,  I  wager.  At  present  I  am  impatient  to  learn  her 
whereabouts  in  order  to  proceed  to  her  without  delay  and  offer  her 
an  uncle's  welcome." 

The  duke  spoke  with  such  apparent  sincerity  that  Mr.  Fox  suf 
fered  himself  to  be  deceived.  He  shook  the  hand  of  the  host  a 
second  time  and  declared  repeatedly  that  such  language  pleased 
him  infinitely  better  than  the  duke's  original  reserve. 

"  As  to  the  girl,"  he  said,  "  she  will  be  pleased  to  receive  in 
you  her  father's  brother.  Thus  far  she  has  no  idea  of  the  object  of 
my  tour.  I  did  not  want  to  subject  her  to  any  disappointment  in 
case  of  a  failure  of  my  plans." 

"You  are  as  wise  as  honest,  signer,"  the  duke  responded 
warmly,  "but  you  have  not  yet  gratified  my  curiosity  as  to  the 
whereabouts  of  my  niece." 

"That's  true.  We  have  rented  a  building  on  the  Lago  di 
Como  which  they  call  the  old  castle." 

"  Exactly,  I  know  the  place,  as  I  have  been  negotiating  for  its 
purchase." 

"  Indeed,  signer?     Why,  I  am  glad  to  hear  it." 

"  We  are  even  neighbors,"  the  duke  resumed.  "  I  own  a  manor 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  lake.  The  white  house  is  visible  from 
your  windows." 

"  I  think  it  is,  sir  duke,  for  I  have  noticed  such  a  building.  I 
cannot  help  "feeling  greatly  gratified  at  the  issue  of  this  inter 
view." 

' '  You  cannot  be  any  more  so  than  I,  signor  Foggs  ;  but  it  is  in 
your  power  to  gratify  me  still  more  by  granting  one  request.  It  is 
hardly  meet  that  the  benefactor  of  our  family  should  lodge  in  a 
hotel,  while  I  possess  a  home  to  shelter  him.  Say  that  you  have 
no  objection  and  I'll  send  this  very  minute  for  your  baggage." 


DOLORES.  383J 

"  We  have  nothing  but  a  small  valise  ;  but,  signer — 
"No  buts,  signer,  unless  you  want  to  hurt  my  feelings.  If 
ever  I  visit  the  United  States  I  shall  submit  to  similar  arrange 
ments.  Here  you  are  my  guest  and  must  submit  to  the  sacred 
obligations  which  hospitality  makes  it  my  duty  and  pleasure  to 
enforce. ' ' 

What  could  Mr.  Fox  say  against  such  generous  sentiments  ? 
He  submitted,  and  before  the  expiration  of  another  hour  he  found 
himself  installed  in  a  comfortable  chamber  of  the  dukal  palace 
with  James  as  a  companion.  He  saw  with  great  satisfaction  the 
princely  splendor  of  every  piece  of  furniture  in  the  room  ;  but 
fortunately  for  his  peace  of  mind  he  did  not  notice  how  soon  after 
his  occupation  a  servant  took  his  position  near  the  door,  looking 
for  the  world  like  a-  sentinel  on  duty.  Was  he  placed  there  to  pre 
vent  them  from  suffering  or  from  doing  harm  ?  There  was  an 
other  feature  in  the  duke's  conduct  which  would  have  alarmed  Mr. 
Fox  if  he  had  been  cognizant  of  it.  It  was  this :  Immediately 
after  the  withdrawal  of  the  visitors  the  duke  had  sent  for  a  certain 
Giacomo.  The  man  had  come  and  been  closeted  with  his  master 
for  more  than  an  hour.  On  leaving  him  he  had  pocketed  a  well- 
filled  purse  which  the  duke  had  handed  him,  and  then  taken  the 
direction  to  the  depot.  On  arriving  there  he  had  inquired  for  the 
next  eastern  train,  and,  learning  that  an  express  would  leave  for 
Venice  in  half  an  hour,  had  bought  a  ticket  for  Pavia,  the  station 
next  to  the  Lago  di  Como.  These  movements,  as  we  have  said, 
would  certainly  have  made  Mr.  Fox  nervous  and  restless  if  he  had 
only  noticed  them  ;  but,  fortunately — or  ought  we  to  say  unfortu 
nately  ? — he  remained  in  total  ignorance  of  them.  He  enjoyed 
himself  highly  in  his  new  quarters,  and  it  must  be  confessed  that 
the  duke  left  nothing  undone  to  entertain  his  guest.  He  showed 
him  all  the  sights  of  the  city,  and,  plunging  him  from  one  amuse 
ment  into  another,  caused  him  to  forget  in  a  measure  that  an 
anxious  family  was  daily  expecting  his  return  or  at  least  a  sign  of 
life.  The  conduct  of  the  duke  made  this  seeming  negligence  ex 
cusable  day  for  day  after  he  asserted  his  burning  desire  to  meet  his 
niece,  and  expressed  a  deep  regret  that  circumstances  prevented 
his  departure.  He  did  not  explain  how  it  happened  that  these  cir 
cumstances  did  not  prevent  his  devotion  to  amusements  of  all 


384  DOLORES. 

kinds  ;  but  Mr.  Fox  enjoyed  himself,  and  a  man  who  does  is  not 
inclined  to  be  over-scrupulous. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

OLD    ACQUAINTANCES. 

While  this  was  going  on  in  Turin,  a  young  man,  a  pedestrian, 
followed  the  mountain  road  that  led  around  the  western  shore  of 
Lago  di  Como.  The  traveler  marched  vigorously  in  spite  of  the 
hot  sun  and  the  hour  of  noon,  which  was  near  at  hand.  To  judge 
from  the  dust  on  his  clothes,  he  must  have  passed  over  a  consider 
able  piece  of  ground  that  morning  ;  but,  excepting  an  occasional 
lifting  of  his  light  straw  hat  in  order  to  wipe  the  perspiration  off 
his  brow,  he  showed  no  sign  of  exertion,  much  less  fatigue.  When 
he  stopped  it  was  less  for  the  purpose  of  resting  than  of  catching 
and  fastening  a  delightful  view  in  his  sketch-book.  It  is  at  such  a 
moment  that  he  first  engages  our  attention.  He  has  left  the  main 
road  and,  climbing  up  a  rocky  cliff,  reached  a  plateau,  from  which 
a  charming  view  into  the  valley  and  lake  opens  and  paid  him  for 
his  trouble.  A  few  bushes  gave  him  shade  and  made  superfluous 
the  straw  hat  which  the  artist  had  laid  on  the  grass  at  his  side.  A 
well-seasoned  thorny  cane  with  many  knots  protruding  lay  beside 
the  hat,  apparently  a  harmless,  but  yet  efficient,  weapon  of  defense. 
A  glance  into  the  young  man's  breast  pocket,  however,  shows  us 
the  butt  end  of  a  good  revolver  as  an  additional  protection,  leav 
ing  out  of  account  the  lithe,  athletic  form  of  the  artist,  who  seemed 
as  well  qualified  to  handle  the  cane  or  sword  as  the  pencil. 

He  drew  a  castle  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  lake,  whose  dilapi 
dated,  weather-beaten  exterior  made  it  a  proper  subject  for  a 
sketch.  After  drawing  the  general  outlines  he  looked  more  sharply 
for  some  details,  and,  failing  to  make  out  one  or  two  essential  fea 
tures,  took  his  pocket  telescope  to  assist  him.  By  means  of  it  he 
discovered  various  female  figures  moving  on  the  porch  or  balcony 
and  the  sight  seemed  to  affect  him,  f6r,  allowing  the  telescope  to 
sink  and  the  sketch-book  to  fall  to  the  ground,  he  let  his  head  drop 
upon  his  hand,  which,  in  turn,  was  supported  by  the  elbow  resting 


on  tlu1  knee,  and  mused.  His  thoughts  were  evidently  of  a  mel 
ancholy  character,  for  a  deep  sigh  escaped  from  his  bosom.  Wo 
an1  not  able  to  state  whether  a  second  one  was  on  the  way  to  follow 
it,  for  all  at  once  the  doleful  pastime  of  the  young  man  was  inter 
rupted  by  such  loud,  dissonant  sounds  in  his  immediate  neighbor 
hood  that  he  without  delay  sprang  to  his  feet,  and,  sei/ing  his 
cane,  awaited  the  further  development  of  affairs.  lie  had  not 
long  to  wait,  for  a  moment  afterward  the  bodies  of  several  persons 
breaking  through  the  hushes  appeared  on  the  open  plateau.  There 
were  four  of  them,  evidently  engaged  in  a  bitter  deadly  strife. 
The  artist  saw  weapons  gleaming  in  their  hands  ;  but  he  also  saw 
that  in  regard  to  numbers  the  combat  was  very  unequal.  Three 
struggled  against  one,  and  only  the  wonderful  agility  and  prowess 
of  the  latter  enabled  him  to  sustain  a  conflict  against  such  odds. 
For  a  few  moments  the  artist  remained  neutral  ;  the  skill  and 
strength  of  the  man  lighting  under  such  disadvantages  seemed  to 
make  him  forget  his  perilous  position.  lint  his  enemies  pressed 
him  harder  and  harder  and,  besides  becoming  fatigued,  he  was 
with  every  second  pushed  nearer  the  brim  of  the  plateau,  which  was 
abrupt  enough  to  make  a  fall  almost,  fatal.  The  artist  hesitated  no 
longer. 

"  Fair  plav  !"  he  cried  in  Italian,  but  with  a  foreign  accent, 
and,  jumping  toward  the  combatants,  let  his  cane  describe  danger 
ous  circles  through  the  air.  "  Is  it  manly  for  three  to  attack  one? 
Turn  this  way  one  of  you  and  let,  me  teach  him  a  lesson  in  man 
ners." 

lie  pressed  the  assailants  in  such  a  manner  as  to  compel  one  of 
them  to  turn  against  the  new  comer.  The  man  did  so  with  a  curse, 
and,  springing  on  him  with  the  fierceness  of  a  tiger,  would  have 
plunged  his  dagger  into  the  artist's  bosom  if  the  hitter's  cane,  had 
not  promptly  stopped  the  dangerous  movement.  A  rapid  blow 
sent  the  dagger  spinning  through  the  air  and  the  arm  dangling  to 
the  hip.  Planting  a  blow  between  the  fellow's  eyes  thai  betrayed 
his  Anglo-Saxon  origin,  the  artist  set  his  adversary  completely  lior* 
(In  coinlxii  and  was  just  going  to  turn  to  a  second  one  when  he  saw 
that  the  combat  was  already  at  an  end.  A  second  member  of  the 
trio  lay  on  the  ground  with  a  dagger  sticking  to  the  hilt  in  his 
breast,  and  the  third  one  only  saved  himself  from  the  fate  of  his 


386  DOLORES. 

companions  by  beating  a  dangerous  and  precipitous  retreat  down 
the  cliff.  The  artist  was  in  the  act  of  witnessing  his  descent,  when 
the  victorious  combatant,  seizing  his  arm,  drew  him  towards  the 
bushes,  saying : 

"Don't  stop  to  see  how  the  carrion  reaches  the  bottom.  It 
would  not  pay.  Come !  come !  we  are  in  danger." 

"  We  ?"  the  artist  inquired.  "  I  do  not  see  why  I  should  be  in 
danger." 

"  If  you  do  not  see  it,  take  my  word  for  it.  You  have  assisted 
Luigi  against  the  sbirri,  and  that  is  an  offence  they  11  never  par 
don." 

The  young  man  snatched  up  his  sketch  book  and  then  suffered 
himself  to  be  led  by  his  companion  over  a  rather  rough  road  deeper 
and  higher  into  the  mountain,  until  at  last  every  trace  of  cultiva 
tion  had  disappeared.  The  respect  with  which  the  bravery  of  his 
guide  had  filled  the  artist,  had  thus  far  prevented  him  from  mak 
ing  any  remonstrances ;  but  when  the  country  became  wilder  and 
wilder,  and  every  vestige  of  road  or  even  path  disappeared,  it  struck 
him  that  it  might  be  prudent  to  ask  some  explanation  from  a 
stranger  who,  though  brave,  might  nevertheless  be  a  great  scoundrel. 
In  fact,  the  name  Luigi  which  he  had  given  as  being  his,  had  no 
good  sound  in  the  regions  from  which  he  came.  The  papers  had 
been  filled  with  accounts  of  a  famous  brigand  by  that  name,  and 
from  what  the  artist  had  witnessed  he  was  well  inclined  to  think 
that  this  Luigi  and  the  hero  of  the  papers  might  be  identical. 
Therefore  he  stopped  abruptly  and  said  : 

"Mr.  Luigi,  that  is  quite  enough  for  friendship's  sake.  I  have 
done  you  a  service,  and  you  repaid  me  by  saving  me  from  the 
rough  contact  with  the  police.  At  least  you  say  you  have,  and  I 
shall  take  your  word  for  it ;  but  as  to  following  you  without  any 
guarantee  or  explanation,  why,  it  is  altogether  out  of  the  question." 

The  Italian  eyed  the  speaker  with  undiguised  affection  and 
respect. 

"I  see  you  are  a  brave  fellow,"  he  replied,  "or  you  would  not 
beard  the  lion  in  his  den.  Very  few  persons  dare  to  speak  to  Luigi 
as  you  have  spoken.  What  would  you  do  if  I  should  now  turn  my 
hand  against  you  ?  " 

"I  should  endeaver  to  prove  to  you  that  an  American  gentle- 


DOLORES.  387 

man  is  at  least  as  much  of  a  match  as  three-fold  the  number  of  your 
sbirri." 

"I  know  you  would,  signer,  I  know.  But  nothing  is  further 
from  my  mind  than  the  desire  to  harm  you.  You  have  rendered 
Luigi  a  great  service,  and  he  is  not  the  man  to  prove  himself  un 
grateful.  What  must  I  do  to  convince  you  of  my  friendship  and 
the  earnest  desire  to  serve  you  ?  " 

"By  showing  me  the  nearest  way  out  of  this  wilderness.  I 
want  to  reach  the  next  town  before  evening." 

"That  is  impossible,  signor,  for  it  is  past  twelve  now  and  the 
distance  to  Pesanto  is  more  than  twenty  miles." 

The  artist  suffered  an  exclamation  of  impatience  to  escape  his 
lips.  The  brigand  took  his  hand. 

"Signor,"  he  said  with  earnest  supplication  "listen  to  my 
prayer  !  do  not  forsake  me  now  !  I  have  so  few  to  love  and  you  by 
your  noble  and  chivalrous  bearing  have  gained  my  love  to  its 
fullest  extent.  Do  not  feel  offended,  do  not  laugh  at  me  either  for 
a  man  who,  like  me,  has  to  associate  so  much  with  the  scum  of  so 
ciety,  feels  the  charm  of  an  honest  man's  company  stronger  than 
that  of  handsome  women.  Grant  me  the  pleasure  of  spending  a  few 
hours  at  least,  in  your  company,  so  that  in  after  years  1  may  say  to 
myself  or  to  the  people  :  'I  have  seen  a  man.' " 

The  artist  laughed. 

"  Burlesque  over  and  over  !"  he  cried,  thereby  setting  aside  our 
last  scruple  as  to  his  identity.  It  is  Charles  Fuchs  and  knowing 
that  much,  AVC  may  as  well  give  him  his  proper  appellation. 

"  Burlesque  over  and  over  ! "  he  cried  "and  for  the  sake  of  Bur 
lesque  I  will  grant  your  prayer.  I  am  at  your  disposal,  signor,  you 
may  do  with  me  as  suits  your  pleasure." 

Instead  of  all  thanks  Luigi  took  his  hand  and  led  him  still 
deeper  up  the  pass,  through  which  they  had  been  stumbling  ;  but 
after  the  expiration  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the  path  came  suddenly 
to  an  end.  The  cleft  in  the  mountain  grew  much  narrower  and  a 
number  of  rocks  having  detached  themselves  from  the  steep  walls 
and  fallen  "pele-mele"  into  the  pass,  seemed  to  stop  every  advance. 
But  Luigi  was  evidently  at  home  here ;  climbing  over  a  rock  now 
and  slipping  past  another,  he  finally  reached  a  kind  of  kettle  or 
cauldron  which  for  protection  or  seclusion  could  not  be  surpassed. 


388  DOLORES. 

Besides  a  sentinel  which  guarded  the  outer  entrance  to  the  grotto, 
the  place  was  occupied  by  half  a  dozen  rough  looking  fellows,  who 
enjoyed  their  leisure  in  as  many  different  positions  as  they  numbered 
persons.  The  voice  of  the  captain  called  them  suddenly  to  their 
feet  ;  their  eyes  looked  wildly  and  spitefully  upon  the  stranger,  for 
whom  their  captain  showed  so  much  consideration.  Luigi  spoke : 

"Brethren,"  he  said,  "this  signor  is  my  friend — you  under 
stand  what  that  means  :  he  is  my  friend.  He  is  tatiooed,  sacred, 
inviolable.  To  touch  him,  yes,  even  to  offend  him  is  certain  death — 
you  know  me  !" 

The  eyes  of  the  robbers  dwelt  as  darkly  upon  the  stranger  as 
before.  Luigi  saw  it.  Not  so  much  to  yield  to  them,  as  because 
he  chose  to  communicate  the  reason  of  his  action,  he  said  : 

"  This  gentleman  has  saved  my  life.  He  came  to  my  assistance 
in  a  fight  with  three  sbirri.  I  came  near  being  overpowered — you 
know  what  that  means.  I  shall  never  become  a  prisoner." 

Now  a  sudden  motion  came  into  the  brigands.  They  ran  to 
shake  hands  with  the  stranger,  and  there  was  not  one  amongst 
them  who  did  not  offer  him  the  free  use  of  his  dagger.  Having 
thus  shown  their  gratefulness  the  men  dispersed,  and  Luigi  took 
Charles  to  a  hut,  which  was  well  furnished,  considering  the  place 
and  its  occupant.  Instead  of  wooden  furniture,  which  the  narrow 
passage  made  impossible,  cushions  and  mattresses  covered  the  floor 
along  the  walls,  and  when  Charles,  in  obedience  to  his  host's  sum 
mons,  stretched  his  somewhat  fatigued  limbs  on  one  of  these  mat 
tresses,  his  head  resting  on  a  silken  pillow,  he  compared  himself  to 
a  Turkish  pasha  who  prepares  to  give  audience  to  his  eunuchs  and 
the  members  of  his  seraglio.  But  Luigi  showed  himself  a  good 
host  in  other  respects  as  well,  for  fifteen  minutes  after  their  arrival 
a  number  of  savory  dishes  stood  before  them,  to  find  which  pala 
table  one  needed  not  to  be  very  hungry  at  all. 

"You  lead  a  comfortable  life,  Signor  Luigi,"  Charles  remarked 
to  his  host  while  enjoying  his  meal.  "These  meats  are  well  pre 
pared,  the  bread  is  good,  the  fruit  is  delicious,  and  the  wine  worthy 
of  a  king." 

Luigi  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Abundance  one  day  and  want  the  next,"  he  said;  "that  is  our 


DOLORES.  389 

lot.  You  had  a  fair  specimen  this  morning  of  the  dangers  which 
beset  us  on  our  way." 

' '  Then  you  do  not  follow  a  brigand's  calling  from  selection  ?" 

"No,  signor,  a  wanton  act  of  folly  committed  in  the  exuber 
ance  of  youth  threw  me  out  of  my  career,  and  compelled  me  to 
seek  the  mountains.  Such  a  life  once  begun  is  hard  to  quit  again, 
and  I  lead  it  as  much  from  necessity  as  from  choice.  I  say  this 
unto  you,  though  I  should  be  very  careful  to  confess  such  senti 
ments  from  my  comrades." 

' '  I  am  glad  you  have  such  confidence  in  me.  To  reward  it,  I 
can  do  nothing  better  than  to  offer  you  my  assistance  in  beginning 
a  new  life.  Go  with  me  to  my  country  across  the  ocean  ;  there 
a  man  of  nerve,  will,  and  intelligence,  such  as  you  possess,  can 
not  fail  to  meet  with  success.  I  am  not  without  means  and 
influence  in  my  sphere,  and  what  I  can  do  for  you  will  certainly  be 
done." 

Luigi  was  moved,  more  deeply  moved  than  he  chose  to  show  ; 
but  the  strong  pressure  of  his  hand  and  the  .sudden  hoarseness  in 
his  throat  betrayed  him. 

"You  are  very  kind,  signor;  I  have  not  learned  your  name 
yet?" 

"They  call  me  Charles  Fuchs  across  here,  which,  in  Italian, 
would  be  as  much  as  Carlo  Fuchs." 

"  Well,  Signor  Carlo,  I  was  going  to  say  that  I  appreciate  your 
kindness  from  the  fullness  of  my  heart.  The  thought  of  going 
with  you  is  very  tempting,  but  an  oath  binds  me  to  my  compan 
ions  which  I  cannot  break.  No,  no,  signor,  I  shall  have  to  ful 
fill  my  destiny,  which  is  a  hempen  rope,  or,  at  best,  an  ounce  of 
lead." 

"But  would  your  comrades  not  wish  to  join  you  in  so  com 
mendable  an  enterprise?  I  extend  my  hospitality  to  them,  pro 
vided  they  pledge  to  me  their  vow  to  become  new  and  better 
men." 

"I'll  think  of  it,  signor,  and  I  will  tell  them.  It  is  my  duty 
to  hold  out  to  them  this  chance  ;  but  I  doubt  very  much  whether 
they  would  like  the  proposition.  They  have,  most  of  them,  sunk 
too  deep  to  extricate  themselves  as  easily  as  that." 

The  meal  being  over,  the  conversation  stopped,  and  the  brigand 


390  DOLORES. 

and  his  guest  left  the  hut  to  enjoy  the  delightful  air  in  front  of  it. 
While  Luigi  went  to  his  men  and  spoke  to  them  of  the  generous 
offers  of  the  stranger,  Charles  took  out  his  sketch-book  and  began 
to  sketch  some  of  the  interesting  groups  before  him.  In  Italy 
there  is  a  certain  romance,  a  vestige  of  nobility  to  be  found  in  the 
very  dregs  of  the  populace,  and  if  the  painter  wants  a  model  for 
a  hero,  an  apostle  he  seeks  among  the  peasantry  of  the  mountains. 
Charles  sketched  with  interest,  the  pencil  flew  rapidly  across  the 
paper,  and  he  hardly  noticed  the  return  of  Luigi,  who  stooped 
over  his  shoulders,  watching  curiously  the  progress  of  the  work. 

"  That  is  a  strange  art  you  exercise,  signor.  It  must  be  a  great 
satisfaction  thus  to  be  able  to  fasten  the  features  of  a  landscape  or 
a  person  on  a  piece  of  paper,  to  put  them  in  your  pocket,  and  thus 
make  them  your  property  which  you  can  take  any  place  you  please. 
I  have  seen  many  men  of  your  profession  and  always  envied,  but 
never  molested  them." 

Charles  laughed. 

"I  thank  you  in  the  name  of  all  painters,"  he  said,  "though 
I  myself  am  none.  I  am  merely  a  poor  amateur  and  not  at  all 
proud  of  my  ability  to  soil  good  paper  with  a  few  pencil  marks." 

"Excuse  me,  Signor  Carlo,  for  contradicting  you.  I  have  a 
tolerably  good  idea  of  an  artist's  touch  ;  that  sketch  bears  the 
stamp  of  genius,  notwithstanding  your  modest  self-underrating. 
Will  you  allow  me  the  pleasure  of  examining  the  book?" 

"  Of  course,  signor,"  Charles  replied,  at  the  same  time  handing 
him  the  sketches,  which  the  brigand  viewed  with  evident  pleasure 
and  a  good  deal  of  appreciation.  Commencing  his  examination 
with  the  sketch  just  finished  he  went  backward,  working  his  way 
gradually  from  the  later  drawings  to  those  of  an  earlier  date.  Some 
drawings  he  recognized,  and  showed  such  a  sincere  delight  at  them 
that  Charles  concluded  that  he  could  not  be  depraved  beyond  re 
demption.  A  man  who  finds  pleasure  in  J;he  contemplation  of 
works  of  art  and  admires  nature,  their  source,  is  still  accessible  to 
noble  impulses.  Only  the  low  and  hopeless  villain  is  dead  to  the 
spark  of  genius. 

The  sketch-book  showed  landscapes  and  faces  in  rich  profusion, 
and  among  the  latter  was  one  which  made  Luigi  start.  Yet  he 
abstained  from  making  any  remarks  until  he  had  found  the  same 


DOLORES.  391 

portrait  on  a  dozen  different  pages  and  in  a  variety  of  attitudes. 
Pointing  to  one  of  the  numerous  copies  of  this  lovely  face  he  said 
positively  : 

"You  love  her  !" 

This  unexpected  and  direct  remark  had  a  strange  effect  upon 
the  young  man.  He  blushed  with  an  intensity  which  inclines  us 
to  take  the  glow  of  his  countenance  more  as  an  indication  of  pain 
than  of  bashf ulness.  At  the  same  time  a  moan  broke  from  his 
bosom  so  deep,  so  plaintive,  that  it  startled  the  robber.  With 
a  tact  innate  in  these  people,  he  laid  his  hand  upon  Charles'  shoul 
der  and  said  : 

"Pardon  me,  signor,  I  have  hurt  your  feelings.  If  I  had  known 
the  effect  of  my  remark  I  would  sooner  have  cut  off  my  tongue 
than  made  it." 

Charles  smiled  painfully. 

"Never  mind,  Luigi,  you  are  perfectly  excusable.  It  is  my 
business  to  ask  your  pardon  for  showing  such  unmanly  weakness." 

"  Then  you  love  unhappily  ?" 

Charles  replied  by  nodding.  This  was  the  first  time  since  his 
departure  from  home  that  this  subject  had  been  broached  by  or  to 
him.  Carefully  the  feelings  of  his  heart  had  been  pent  up,  and  he 
thought  sometimes  that  the  moment  was  near  at  hand  of  which  he 
had  spoken  in  the  letter  to  his  mother,  and  that  he  would  soon  be 
able  to  write  to  her  again.  But  now  the  wrild  uproar  of  his  bosom 
taught  him  differently,  and,  like  young  wine  in  fermentation  which 
threatens  to  break  the  cask  confining  it,  the  fullness  of  his  long 
stifled  emotions  forced  an  utterance.  He  rose  and  paced  the  nar 
row  space  with  an  energy  as  if  he  wished  to  burst  the  rocky  bounds 
that  hemmed  his  movements.  Luigi  felt  extremely  unhappy  at  this 
unfortunate  occurrence,  but  for  full  fifteen  minutes  his  guest  re 
fused  to  listen  to  his  words.  At  last,  however,  the  first  paroxysm 
of  his  grief  having  spent  itself,  he  returned  of  his  own  accord  to 
where  Luigi  was  sitting  with  a  mournful  face. 

"Excuse  me,  my  good  signor,"  he  said,  with  an  attempt  to 
smile  ;  "  this  is  the  first  time  for  a  long  while  that  my  sore  heart 
has  been  touched.  The  shock  was  too  much  for  me,  and  you  see 
that  I  had  to  yield  to  the  powerful  emotions  which  swayed  me  as 


392  DOLORES. 

the  hurricane  sways  a  reed.  Now  it  is  over,  and  I  promise  you  to 
save  you  the  repetition  of  so  unmanly  an  aspect." 

Luigi  took  both  his  hands. 

"I  feel  for  you;  but  I  shall  never  recur  to  that  sad  face 
again." 

Charles  shook  his  head. 

4 'There  you  are  wrong,  signer.  The  first  pain  being  over,  I 
wish  nothing  better  than  to  speak  of  her.  Oh,  Luigi,  there  is  not 
one  girl  like  her  in  the  world,  and  though  she  breathes  thousands 
of  miles  from  here,  and  the  broad  Atlantic  ocean  rolls  its  mighty 
floods  between  us,  she  attracts  me  as  powerfully  as  the  pole  the 
magnet." 

Luigi  looked  surprised. 

"You  say  you  left  her  in  America?" 

Charles  nodded. 

"  Then  she  must  have  a  duplicate.  I  saw  this  very  face  a  few 
days  ago  on  the  shore  of  Lago  di  Como." 

Charles  sprang  up  again,  the  prey  of  excitement ;  this  announce 
ment  was  too  much  for  his  composure.  But,  then,  he  began  to- 
think,  and,  as  the  conviction  seized  his  mind  that  the  statement  of 
Luigi  could  not  possibly  be  correct,  he  smiled  bitterly,  and,  with  a 
shake  of  his  head,  resumed  his  seat. 

"  I  am  a  fool,"  he  said  in  melancholy  tones.  "I  know  she  can 
not  be  here,  and  yet  I  suffer  myself  to  go  frantic  by  the  statement 
that  you  have  seen  her." 

"If  I  have  not  seen  her  I  have  seen  somebody  that  resembles 
her  like  as  one  egg  the  other.  Has  she  not  long  black  tresses  of 
luxuriant  profusion  ?" 

"She  has." 

"  And  a  high  commanding  forehead  with  arched  brows  from' 
under  which  a  wonderful  pair  of  dark-blue  eyes  are  gazing  with/ 
high  intelligence  and  just  a  touch  of  sadness?" 

"You  paint  her  to  perfection,"  cried  Charles,  beginning  to  be 
come  excited  a  second  time  in  spite  of  his  efforts  to  remain  calm. 
"I  recognize  Dolores,  excepting  the  touch  of  sadness,  you  men 
tion." 

"She  may  be  pining  for  the  absent  one,"  Lugi  said,  with  a 
hopeful  smile,  as  if  he  wished  to  encourage  the  despairing  lover. 


DOLOKES.  393 

"  But  I  have  not  yet  completed  my  description.  The  lady  I  saw  is 
of  medium  size  and  a  model  for  a  Pallas.  Never  before  have  I 
seen  such  perfect  grace  and  stately  dignity  united." 

"You  paint  vividly,  Signer  Luigi.  The  lady  seems  to  have 
made  a  deep  impression  on  your  heart." 

"  She  did,  Carlo,  I  can  assure  you,"  the  other  replied  earnestly. 
11 1  had  to  beg  her  to  depart  to  save  her  from  certain  curious  wishes 
arising  in  my  heart." 

"  Can  you  give  me  no  nearer  details — nothing  by  which  an  ac 
quaintance  could  identify  her  ?" 

"  Of  course  I  can ;  dunce  that  I  was  not  to  think  of  it.  I  had 
a  conversation  with  the  lady,  in  which  she  told  me  that,  although 
she  was  with  the  English  family  in  the  old  castle,  of  which  you 
drew  a  sketch  this  morning,  she  was  Italian  by  birth  and  an  orphan. 
Here  is  a  little  purse  she  gave  me — gave  me,  signor,  I  swear  it  by 
the  madonna ;  I  could  not  have  robbed  her  for  the  world." 

At  these  words  he  pulled  a  pocketbook  of  small  dimensions  and 
fine  finish,  which  Charles  recognized  on  the  spot.  Dolores  had 
bought  it  in  his  presence  the  day  before  her  departure  for  school. 
Every  doubt  was  at  an  end,  and  the  certainty  of  the  close  prox 
imity  of  her  he  loved  burst  upon  him  as  the  glorious  sun  on  a 
cloudless  morning  upon  a  dazzled  world.  He  was  unable  to  think  ; 
he  could  merely  feel,  and  all  his  feelings  centered  and  burst  out 
into  her  name. 

"It  is  her  purse  !"  he  cried,  snatching  it  from  the  brigand  ;  "it 
is  Dolores'  purse,  and  I  must  have  it  if  you  demand  a  price  ten 
times  its  weight  in  gold.  It  is  Dolores  !  here  in  Italy !  near  me  ! 
the  thought  is  apt  to  set  me  mad  !  But  now,  Luigi,  good  Luigi, 
do  not  delay.  Come,  I  must  see  her.  Lead  me  to  the  road  that 
takes  me  to  her  presence.  Come,  sir,  make  haste,  unless  you  wish 
to  see  me  dying  with  impatience." 

Rushing  into  the  hut  he  snatched  his  cane  and  hat,  and  then 
coming  out  again  seized  the  arm  of  Luigi  in  order  to  drag  him  to 
the  entrance.  The  brigand  saw  the  hopelessness  of  stopping  his 
impetuous  demands,  and,  with  a  good-natured  smile,  humored  him 
to  a  certain  extent. 

"  Signor  Carlo,"  he  said,  smiling,  "  I  am  ready  to  conduct  you, 
but  you  must  give  me  time  for  preparation.  Recollect  our  encoun- 


394  DOLORES. 

ter  with  the  sbirri.  If  we  fall  into  their  hands  I  guarantee  noth 
ing.  '  Caught  together,  hung  together"  is  the  motto  on  which  the 
scoundrels  act.  No,  signor,  not  so  desperately  fast.  '  Soft  and 
fairly  goes  far  '  is  the  adage,  and  it  is  a  true  one.  Therefore,  suf 
fer  yourself  to  be  conducted  by  it." 

Charles  saw  the  propriety  of  these  remarks  ;  but  he  found  great 
difficulty  in  applying  them  to  his  case.  Yet  he  checked  himself 
sufficiently  to  allow  Luigi  time  for  needful  preparations.  The  bri 
gand  assumed  a  complete  disguise,  and  when  he  had  donned  the 
suit  of  a  peasant  and  stepped  before  his  friend  with  cane  in  hand, 
Charles  had  difficulty  in  recognizing  the  bold  dashing  robber  in  the 
meek,  smiling  and  rather  stupid  looking  countryman. 

"  So  now  I  am  ready  to  go  with  you,  for  you  must  know  that  I 
have  resolved  to  see  you  safely  to  the  end  of  your  journey.  I 
shouldn't  wonder  if  the  sbirri  showed  an  unusual  activity  after 
that  adventure  of  theirs,  and,  unless  properly  guided,  you  might 
easily  fall  into  their  hands.  That  must  not  be  if  Luigi  can  help 
it,  and,  therefore,  he  will  go  with  you.  Now  come  along,  signor, 
we  have  no  time  to  lose,  if  we  want  to  reach  the  castle  before 
night." 

"Charles,  of  course,  had  no  objection  to  depart,  and  so  the  two 
retraced  their  steps  over  the  tiresome  road  which  they  had  pursued 
in  the  morning.  As  long  as  the  ravine  protected  them  everything 
went  well,  but,  on  reaching  the  margin  of  the  road,  they  saw  the 
apprehensions  of  Luigi  verified  by  the  presence  of  large  numbers 
of  armed  policemen,  who  were  scouring  the  surrounding  country 
in  squads  of  different  sizes. 

Luigi  laughed  when  he  saw  them. 

"  The  fools  r  he  said,  "  they  might  as  well  hunt  for  a  pin  in 
the  Lago  as  hope  to  catch  me  by  keeping  to  the  turnpike.  But, 
the  truth  of  it  is,  they  are  afraid  to  venture  into  the  mountain 
passes. ' ' 

"  But  they  will  hinder  us  from  pursuing  our  way  ?" 

Luigi  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  see  no  other  chance  than  to  wait  for  the  cover  of  night  and 
row  across  the  lake.  I  have  a  little  boat  that  will  just  answer  the 
purpose.  Water  leaves  no  trail,  and  I  see  no  better  way  to  take  the 
bloodhounds  from  your  trail." 


DOLORES.  395 

Charles  fretted  much  at  the  thought  of  such  delay  ;  but  he  was 
sensible  enough  to  see  that  Luigi  counseled  wisely,  and  he  finally 
consented  to  the  proposal,  although  with  a  bad  enough  grace. 
Fortunately,  dusk  was  already  near  at  hand,  and,  the  hour  of  twi 
light  being  short  in  all  southern  countries,  the  prospect  before  them 
was  less  gloomy  than  it  had  looked  at  first.  The  hour  of  waiting 
was  mostly  spent  in  silence  ;  once  or  twice  a  few  remarks  concern 
ing  the  old  castle  and  its  inhabitants  were  exchanged,  but  the  sus 
pense  and  expectation  of  both  of  them  were  not  favorable  for  an 
exchange  of  words  and  thoughts,  and  Charles  started  from  a  deep 
study  when  Luigi  finally  said  : 

"It's  time,  Carlo." 

Cautiously  they  cross  the  road  at  a  place  where  it  was  densely 
fringed  with  bushes  and  make  a  short  turn,  thus  concealing  any 
object  on  it  from  distant  spectators.  Creeping  on  their  hands  and 
feet  they  descended  the  rocky  shore  of  the  lake  as  well  as  they 
could,  and,  finally  reaching  it  undiscovered,  entered  one  of  the  little 
skiffs  that  lay  ready  for  use  along  the  edge  of  the  water.  With 
gentle  strokes  they  forced  the  craft  into  the  lake,  and  the  skill 
with  which  Charles  seconded  the  efforts  of  his  guide  drew  more 
than  one  word  of  praise  from  Luigi's  lips.  So  rapid  was  their 
progress  that  they  reached  the  opposite  shore  before  the  darkness 
of  night  had  fully  set  in.  The  feeble  twilight  was  seconded  by 
the  moon,  which  had  just  raised  her  first  quarter  in  the  sky,  and 
in  that  way  the  inmates  of  the  skiff  were  enabled  to  reach  the 
beach  just  below  the  place  where  the  old  castle  raised  its  walls  into 
the  air. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 


ALARMING   NEWS. 


"Now  go  in,  signer,"  Luigi  addressed  his  friend,  "and  ascer 
tain  how  matters  stand.  I  shall  wait  for  you  a  whole  hour,  until 
the  moon  disappears  beyond  the  mountain.  If  by  that  time  I  see 
no  sign  of  you  I  shall  construe  it  as  an  indication  that  everything 


396  DOLORES. 

is  right  and  that  I  can  return,  leaving  you  in  safety.  Farewell,. 
Carlo,  give  me  your  hand  ;  you  cannot  imagine  how  much  good 
your  visit  has  done  me  and  how  sad  I  shall  feel  after  your  depar 
ture.  You  cannot  have  mourned  your  love  more  deeply  than  I 
shall  mourn  your  friendship." 

Charles  was  deeply  moved  in  spite  of  the  excitement  of  the 
moment. 

"  You  must  not  go  before  I  come  back  to  the  shore  to  see  you/* 
he  said ;  '•  moreover,  I  cannot  think  of  leaving  you  in  such  a  hope 
less  condition,  and,  before  I  go  for  good,  I  shall  once  more  renew 
my  offer.  But,  Luigi,  I  fear  I  have  acted  like  a  fool,  and  that  my 
•presence  in  that  house  will  be  anything  but  requited.  Tell  me,  did 
you  notice  a  certain  young  mariner  in  her  company  ?" 

"No,  Carlo,  she  was  alone,  and  I  know  for  sure  that  no  such 
person  is  in  the  company.  I  have  a  friend  of  mine  in  the  castle, 
and  from  him  I  know  for  certain  that  the  party  consists  of  the 
parents  and  two  daughters." 

"  Ha  !  that  relieves  me  in  a  measure.  I  can  now  hope  that  she 
may  have  changed  her  mind,  may  have  awoke  as  from  a  dream. 
I'll  go  now,  Luigi ;  remember  that  I  want  to  see  you  yet  thi& 
night." 

Saying  this  the  young  man  left  the  shore,  and  ascending  the 
flight  of  stairs  leading  to  the  court-yard,  soon  reached  the  open 
space  before  the  portico.  The  place  looked  not  only  neglected, 
but  even  deserted,  and  for  a  moment  the  heart  of  Charles  stood 
still  with  apprehension  that  the  family  he  sought  had  left.  That 
error  however  lasted  but  a  moment,  for  all  at  once  he  noticed 
servants  running  to  and  fro  as  if  in  a  state  of  alarm  or  perplexity. 
He  entered  and  tried  to  stop  one  or  two  of  them,  but  they  were  too 
confused  to  give  him  very  satisfactory  information.  A  vague  fear 
took  hold  of  him,  and  he  resolved  to  push  on  without  a  previous 
announcement  of  his  arrival.  Following  the  hall  and  ascending  a 
broad  flight  of  stairs,  he  reached  the  second  story  which  was  totally- 
dark  with  the  exception  of  one  room  whose  door  was  ajar,  thus 
sending  out  a  streak  of  light  as  the  evidence  of  its  being  illuminated. 
This  door  Charles  pushed  open,  and  he  did  not  know  whether  to 
feel  delighted  or  alarmed  on  discovering  Mrs.  Fox  and  Lucy 
huddled  together  on  a  sofa  with  tearful  eyes,  the  hopeless  prey  of 


DOLORES.  397 

anguish  and  consternation.  The  sound  of  his  footsteps  attracted 
their  attention,  and  a  ray  of  joy  lit  up  the  eyes  of  Mrs.  Fox  as  she 
recognized  the  visitor  in  the  light  of  the  candle.  Rising  and  throw 
ing  herself  into  his  arms,  she  cried  : 

"  Charlie  !  our  good  dear  Charlie  !  At  last  a  person  to  whom 
we  poor  frightened  women  can  look  for  help  and  consolation  !  Oh 
Charlie  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you  ! " 

Lucy  joined  in  these  demonstrations,  but  what  surprised  Charles 
was  that  they  treated  his  coming  as  something  entirely  natural,  as 
something  that  might  have  occurred  any  day.  Something  unusual 
must  have  happened,  and  his  heart  shrank  with  fear  at  the  dread 
ful  thought  which  flitted  through  his  brain.  He  had  to  muster 
courage  to  ask  the  question : 

"  "W  hat  is  the  matter  ladies  ?  you  are  alarmed  ?  Where  are  the 
other  members  of  the  family  ?" 

l(  Alas,  we  do  not  know,  Charlie  !  that  is  our  trouble." 

"  Not  know?  Mr.  Fox " 

"  Left  us  a  week  ago  for  a  trip  to  Turin." 

"And  Dolores?" 

"  Has  disapeared  since  this  morning.  Our  servants  have  been 
hunting  her  everywhere,  but  thus  far  without  success.  Imagine 
my  delight  on  discovering  your  dear  face,  Charlie.  I  begin  to  hope 
again,  for  you  love  the  poor  girl  and  I  know  you  will  leave  no  stone 
unturned  to  find  her." 

"  Charles  was  startled  but  yet  relieved.  He  had  feared  some 
thing  worse,  and  therefore  taken  comfort  from  his  agreeable  dis 
appointment.  Still  matters  looked  bad  enough.  Dolores  lost  since 
morning.  It  was  indeed  fortunate  that  he  should  have  arrived  in 
time  to  begin  researches  with  a  reasonable  prospect  of  success. 
But  not  a  moment  must  be  lost,  and  he  led  the  ladies  back  to  the 
sofa  to  extract  any  information  that  might  have  the  tendency  of 
leading  him  on  the  right  track. 

"  Now  tell  me  all  about  it,  Mrs.  Fox,"  he  said  taking  a  seat  at 
her  side. 

"  Alas  !  I  know  but  very  little.  This  morning  Dolores  started 
on  a  tour  of  charity.  Antonio,  one  of  our  servants  came  with  a 
message  from  a  poor  sick  woman,  living  in  one  of  the  last  houses  of 
the  village,  begging  the  signora  that  spoke  Italian  to  come  and  see 


398  DOLORES. 

her  as  she  had  matters  of  importance  to  communicate  to  her.  Dolores 
— you  know  how  good  she  is — could  not  find  it  in  her  heart  to- 
refuse  the  woman.  'She  may  be  a  beggar  in  disguise,'  she  said, 
'but  again  it  may  not.  It  shall  not  be  said  of  me  that  I  refused  to 
comfort  a  poor  creature  in  her  hour  of  death.'  With  those  words 
she  went  and  from  that  moment  my  eyes  have  been  deprived  the 
pleasure  of  resting  on  her  dear,  dear  form." 

"  But  have  you  not  sent  to  the  house  ?  " 

"  Of  course  we  have.  It  was  found  empty  with  its  back  door 
open,  and  traces  of  a  struggle  in  the  garden  behind." 

Charles  shuddered. 

"  And  Antonio  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Has  disappeared  as  well  as  Dolores." 

"  And  you  have  no  idea  who  can  have  abducted  her  ?" 

"  Not  the  slightest.  They  say  there  are  robbers  in  this  country, 
and  they  may  possibly  have  stolen  the  child  to  secure  a  ransom.  I 
have  caused  it  to  be  proclaimed  all  over  the  village  that  a  hand 
some  reward  will  be  paid  to  any  one  who  can  bring  her  back  or 
even  lead  to  the  discovery  of  her  whereabouts." 

"  You  have  done  right,  Mrs.  Fox,  and  all  I  ask  of  you  is  to 
take  heart.  Don't  fret  dear  madam,  for  I  shall  at  once  devote  my 
whole  strength  to  her  recovery.  But  to  begin  at  once  I  have  to 
leave  you.  Will  you  pardon  me  for  this  seeming  rudeness  ?  ' ' 

"  Dou't  speak  so,  Charlie.  I  would  be  the  first  to  hurry  you 
off,  if  your  own  zeal  did  not  prompt  you.  Go,  my  boy,  and  bring 
her  back  to  my  arms  to  receive  the  blessing  of  a  mother.  But  stop, 
do  you  know  she  loves  you  ?  Do  you  know  that  the  whole  un 
fortunate  affair  was  nothing  but  the  result  of  a  mistake  ?  " 

"  I  did  not,  and  your  words  make  me  happy.     But  how — 

"  Never  mind  how  Charlie  ;  do  not  stop  now  for  an  explanation. 
The  lines  you  read  had  a  continuation  to  the  effect  that  instead  of 
loving  you,  she  worshipped  you.  So,  let  that  suffice,  Charlie,  and 
hasten  off.  I  shall  be  comparatively  tranquil,  now,  since  I  know 
you  are  on  her  trail." 

Charles  pressed  the  hands  of  the  ladies,  and  after  a  short  adieu 
left  their  presence.  Pain  and  joy  struggled  in  his  soul ;  pain  on  ac 
count  of  the  mysterious  disappearance  of  his  love  ;  joy  because  the 
sad  doubt  of  her  indifference  had  for  ever  been  dispelled  from  his 


DOLOKES.  399* 

soul.  In  this  frame  of  mind,  he  hurried  down  the  steps  to  the 
water's  edge,  to  rejoin  the  brigand,  for  he  shared  the  idea  that 
Dolores  had  been  kidnapped,  in  order  to  secure  a  ransom.  Her 
life  would  be  safe  in  such  an  instance  ;  but  her  honor  !  He  trem 
bled  at  the  thought.  Luigi  knew  beforehand  from  his  hurried, 
eager  step  that  something  was  wrong,  and  when  Charles  reached 
him,  he  was  as  ready  for  listening  as  for  acting. 

"  Now  Luigi "  the  young  man  said  in  hasty  tones,  "  if  you  really 
value  my  friendship  and  gratitude  you  have  a  chance  to  prove  it. 
I  have  returned  to  my  friends  to  learn  that  the  heart  of  Dolores  is 
mine  ;  but  also  that  some  rascal  has  this  very  morning  robbed  me 
of  her  person.  Mrs.  Fox  thinks  it  was  a  robber  and  I  am  inclined 
to  share  that  idea.  Luigi,  if  you  really  are  the  prince  of  these 
fellows,  you  must  assist  me  in  recovering  her  person." 

"Of  that  you  may  rest  assured,  Carlo,"  Luigi  replied  "but  then, 
such  things  are  rarely  undertaken  without  my  knowledge.  I  have 
my  doubts  about  the  girl's  being  in  the  hands  of  robbers.  Come, 
give  me  a  connected  account  of  the  whole  affair.  I  must  know  all 
to  be  able  to  judge." 

Charles  related  all  he  knew. 

"  Antonia,  you  said,  was  the  scoundrel's  name  that  disappeared 
with  her?"  Luigi*inquired. 

"  So  they  tell  me." 

"  I  have  no  doubt,  it  is  the  same  fellow  that  accompanied  her 
the  other  day.  He  scampered  off  on  seeing  me  but  I  noticed  enough 
of  the  rascal's  face  to  set  him  down  as  a  regular  scamp." 

"  And  you  have  no  idea  where  she  can  be  ?  " 

' '  Not  yet,  Carlo.  Has  she  any  enemies  who  would  be  benefited 
by  her  disappearance  ?  " 

"Not  to  my  knowledge  ;  but  stop,  I  may  as  well  tell  you  her 
past  history.  She  is  the  daughter  of  the  Duke  di  Gatana  who  had 
to  flee,  because  he  was  discovered  in  a  conspiracy  against  the  gov 
ernment." 

Luigi  listened.  He  thought  he  saw  a  ray  of  light  penetrating 
the  mystery,  but  said  nothing. 

"The  Duke  lived  an  exile  in  America  and  when  dying  left  his 
daughter  in  the  hands  of  the  gentleman  who  educated  her  and 
whose  family  now  resides  in  this  village." 


400  DOLORES. 

"  And  you  say  he  has  started  on  a  tour  to  Turin,  and  not  been 
heard  of  since  his  departure  ?  "  • 

"So,  it  is." 

"  Then  I  understand  the  whole  case.  Indeed  you  would  under 
stand  it  as  well,  if  it  wasn't  for  one  or  two  things  of  which  you  are 
ignorant.  Tell  me,  Carlo,  that  after  the  peace  of  Villa  France  the 
Duke's  domains  were  restored  to  his  family  ?  " 

"  Indeed  I  didn't.  In  that  case  Dolores  would  be  the  rightful 
heiress, ' ' 

"  So  she  would,  and  unfortunately,  the  Duke,  her  uncle  seems 
to  know  it." 

"But  how?  I  cannot  see  how  in  the  world  he  should  have 
gained  the  knowledge." 

"  You  don't  ?  :)  Luigi  said  with  a  smile.  "  And  yet  you  are  so 
clever.  But  the  fact  is,  we  Italians  are  born  intriguers." 

"Come,  come,  be  quick,"  Charles  said  impatiently  "we  have  no 
time  for  reflections." 

"  Indeed  we  have,"  Luigi  responded  rather  coolly.  "  There  is 
nothing  like  understanding  one's  position.  But  I  will  explain, 
listen ;  '  Mr.  Fox  by  some  means  or  other  learns  the  actual  state  of 
affairs  and  he  comes  to  Italy  to  push  the  claim  of  his  ward." 

"Ha!  indeed!" 

"  He  keeps  her  in  ignorance  because  he  does  not  wish  to  raise 
hopes  which  he  may  be  unable  to  fulfill.  He  rents  this  house  and 
starts  for  Turin  to  see  the  uncle  duke." 

"Do  you  think  so?" 

"  I  know  it,"  was  the  calm  reply.  "  Mr.  Fox  reaches  the  cap 
ital,  he  sees  the  duke  and  presents  the  case.  He  has  papers,  has 
he  not?" 

"  Yes,  the  most  conclusive  documents." 

"Very  well,  the  duke  chafes  ;  but  he  cannot  save  himself,  and, 
making  a  virtue  of  necessity,  he  plays  the  pleasant  gentleman,  the 
loving  uncle.  Mr.  Fox  is  invited  to  his  palace  ;  the  place  of  resi 
dence  of  the  heiress  is  wormed  out  of  him,  and,  while  he  is  cajoled 
from  one  amusement  to  another,  a  confidential  messenger  is  dis 
patched  to  carry  off  the  precious  prize,  voila  tout.'' 

"  By  St.  George  !  I  think  you  are  right,"  cried  Charles,  rising 
so  rapidly  in  the  little  craft  as  to  come  near  upsetting  it.  "  But  to 


DOLORES.  401 

know  the  trouble  and  to  remedy  it  are  two  different  things.  The 
hardest  task  is  still  before  you." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know.  It  is  easier  for  a  good  physician  to 
apply  the  proper  medicine  after  a  correct  diagnosis  than  for  a  poor 
one  to  find  the  seat  of  the  malady.  Everything  depends  on  the 
doctor." 

" That  means,  you  have  strong  hopes  of  recovering  Dolores?" 

"  Yes,  unless  the  duke  ha«  given  her  a  pill  of  arsenic,  or  caused 
her  virgin  bosom  to  be  pierced  by  six  inches  of  cold  steel." 

Charles  shuddered. 

"  He  would  hardly  venture  to  go  to  such  extremes  !" 

Luigi  shrugged  his  shoulders ;  he  was  very  good  at  that. 

"  Friend  Carlo,  it  is  hard  to  say  what  such  a  grandee  will  ven 
ture  for  the  sake  of  rank  and  wealth.  But  let  us  assume  the  more 
desirable  construction,  and  the  question  arises  :  Where  has  the 
duke  caused  her  to  be  secreted  ?  Now,  he  has  so  many  castles  that 
question  is  a  very  difficult  one." 

' '  I  see  it  is.     Have  you  any  idea  ?" 

"  I  think  I  have.  First,  I  ask  myself  the  question  :  How 
many  of  the  duke's  manors  are  available  ?  Next,  How  many  are 
desirable  ?  In  that  way  the  large  number  becomes  considerably 
reduced." 

"  How  many,  then,  are  available?" 

"Two  or  three." 

"And  desirable?" 

"  Just  one." 

"  Ah  !  that  does  simplify  our  task  if  you  are  correct  in  your 
conclusion,  which  I  am  inclined  to  think,  judging  from  your  other 
clever  deductions." 

"Thank  you,  signer." 

"But  where  is  this  castle  ?" 

"Just  one  mile  from  the  place  where  you  met  me  this 
morning." 

"  That  sounds  encouraging.  I  can  hardly  understand,  however, 
why  the  duke  should  deem  a  prison  desirable  which  is  so  near  the 
scone  of  action." 

"That  makes  it  only- more  desirable  in  my  judgment.    Nobody 

26 


402  DOLORES. 

would  expect  the  victim  so  near  the  stage  on  which  the  outrage 
was  committed." 

"Again  you  are  right,  and  you  expect  to  be  able  to  gain  access 
to  this  castle  ?" 

"Carlo,  I  make  it  a  rule — and  tell  you  in  confidence  that  my 
entire  success  and  reputation  are  due  to  this  rule — I  make  it  a  rule, 
I  say,  to  have  an  accomplice  in  every  place  of  importance  ten  miles 
around.  The  castle  in  question  fornfs  no  exception,  and  there  is 
no  hour  of  day  or  night  at  which  I  could  not  penetrate  into  the 
secret  vaults  of  that  stronghold." 

' '  Oh,  thanks,  Luigi !  thanks  for  the  encouragement  you  give 
me.  I  shall  never  again  rebel  against  your  arrangement ;  but,  per 
haps,  you  will  allow  the  humble  question  :  Is  there  anything  to 
delay  our  departure  ? ' ' 

Luigi  laughed. 

"  No,  Carlo,"  he  said,  "  there  is  nothing  to  delay  it ;  but  there 
is  much  to  prompt  it.  We  must  recover  the  body  of  the  prisoner 
this  very  night.  If  the  agent  of  the  duke  gets  only  the  faintest 
hint  of  our  intentions,  farewell  to  the  prospect  of  success?" 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  speak  that  way,  Luigi.  I  surely  will 
be  the  last  to  cause  delay.  Seize  your  oar ;  mine  is  ready." 

Again  the  little  craft  cut  the  glossy  surface  of  the  lake,  this 
time  faster  than  before,  as  if  the  oarsmen  felt'  the  value  of  every 
second.  When  the  keel  grated  on  the  beach  they  jumped  from 
the  vessel,  and,  without  taking  the  trouble  of  securing  it,  began 
the  ascent  of  the  rocky  shore.  It  was  very  dark  now,  and  without 
Luigi's  perfect  knowledge  of  the  ground  they  would  never  have 
succeeded.  Thanks  to  his  skill  as  a  guide,  they  soon  reached  the 
road  and  entered  the  ravine  which  led  to  Luigi's  hiding-place  and 
stronghold.  Here  the  walk  became  more  and  more  difficult,  and 
when  the  rocks  began  to  obstruct  the  path  Charles  declared  his 
inability  to  proceed. 

"I  have  thought  of  that,  Carlo,"  Luigi  replied.  "It  isn't  at 
all  necessary  for  you  to  climb  across.  You  can  stay  here  and  act 
as  sentinel,  and  in  less  than  fifteen  minutes  I  shall  join  you  with 
such  members  of  the  band  as  I  can  command." 

"  Very  well,  signer." 
Luigi  proceeded,  and  the  time  specified  had  not  transpired  by 


DOLORES.  403 

several  minutes  when  the  chieftain  made  his  appearance  with  a 
long  string  of  followers  behind  him.  Taking  Charles  by  the  hand 
he  led  him  down  the  pass  until  they  reached  the  more  open,  but 
less  safe  highway.  Luigi  stopped  until  all  his  men  were  collected 
in  a  circle  around  him. 

"  The  sbirri  may  be  on  the  watch  yet,"  he  said,  "  and  in  that 
instance  we  must  be  cautious.  Don't  use  any  firearms  ;  in  fact,  we 
might  as  well  have  left  them  at  home,  for  all  the  good  they'll  do 
us  ;  but,  if  cold  steel  can  lid  you  of  the  vermin,  use  it  freely.  You 
all  know  the  castle.  We  are  going  to  take  it  from  the  front.  An- 
selmo  is  turnkey,  you  know,  and  will  open  when  he  hears  my  signal. 
The  rest  depends  upon  his  communications.  I  can  better  instruct 
you  after  I  have  spoken  to  him.  Now,  forward  !" 

Silently  and  in  single  file  the  band  proceeded  along  the  high 
way  until  after  awhile  a  road  branched  off  to  the  left.  This  they 
struck  and  pursued  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  when  a  massive  wall 
suddenly  checked  all  further  progress.  Luigi  extracted  a  shrill 
sound  from  a  little  whistle,  and,  then  stepping  back  into  the  forest 
like  his  followers,  he  awaited  the  result  of  the  signal.  They  had 
to  wait  fifteen  minutes  before  their  patience  was  rewarded.  Luigi 
had  already  pondered  on  the  best  way  of  forcing  an  entrance,  when 
all  at  once  a  creaking  in  the  lock  of  the  gate  betrayed  the  insertion 
of  a  key.  The  noise  then  stopped  again,  to  be  heard  once  more, 
when  the  door  swung  on  its  hinges.  A  man  stepped  into  the  road, 
and  a  moment  afterwards  Luigi  reached  him  and  conversed  with 
him  in  low,  cautious  tones.  The  interview  lasted  about  ten  min 
utes,  after  which  time  Luigi  returned  to  his  men. 

''She  is  here,  and  Anselmo  reports  everything  favorable,"  he 
said.  "I  hope  to  be  able  to  carry  the  lady  oft'  without  discovery. 
Still  we  must  be  cautious,  and  I  shall  place  a  guard  at  every  door  or 
side  passage  to  which  we  come.  If  I  tap  a  man's  shoulder  he  stands 
sentinel  until  he  is  relieved  by  a  second  tap.  Our  parole  is  '  Do 
lores.''  Any  one  coming  and  failing  to  give  it  must  be  stabbed 
dead.  Do  you  all  comprehend  ?" 

'Aye,  aye!" 

"Forward,  then  !  Carlo,  remain  at  my  side;  here  is  Anselmo 
with  the  lantern.  Take  the  lead,  my  friend  ;  we  are  ready  to  fol 
low." 


404  DOLOKKS. 

The  turnkey  entered  the  door  and  the  captain  followed,  tapping 
his  next  neighbor  on  the  shoulder.  The  man  stepped  aside,  and, 
the  rest  closing  up,  followed  their  leader.  The  distance  was  long, 
and,  tap  following  tap,  the  squad  becomes  less  and  less  until  only 
half  a  dozen,  including  the  turnkey  and  Charles,  reached  the  door 
of  the  chamber,  in  which,  according  to  the  former  statement,  the 
prisoner  was  confined.  As  yet  they  had  no  proof  that  they  would 
find  Dolores  ;  but  the  indications  pointed  so  strongly  to  her  person 
that  little  or  no  doubt  prevailed  in  the  minds  of  Charles  and  Luigi 
as  to  whom  they  would  discover.  The  turnkey  stopped  them  : 

"The  room  is  a  double  one,  and  the  first  one  used  as  an  ante 
chamber.  I  have  not  been  in  it ;  but,  if  it  is  not  locked,  we  may 
expect  to  find  a  couple  of  guards  in  it." 

He  tried  the  latch  and  the  door  yielded  to  his  pressure.  By  the 
light  of  the  lantern  the  visitors  saw  two  men  lying  on  as  many 
couches  and  sleeping  the  sleep  of  the  just.  Luigi  beckoned  two 
of  his  men : 

"Stand  over  these  fellows  with  your  daggers  drawn.  If  they 
keep  still,  don't  hurt  them;  if  they  open  their  eyes,  let  your  dag 
gers  do  their  work,  but  well  and  noiselessly." 

The  men  took  their  posts.  Did  a  warning  spirit  caution  the 
threatened  sleepers  ?  Nobody  can  tell ;  but  so  much  we  know, 
that  they  continued  to  sleep  like  rocks.  The  turnkey  went  to  the 
second  door;  the  key  was  in  the  lock,  and,  being  turned  at  once, 
permitted  the  entrance  into  the  room.  The  turnkey  went  first,  and 
the  others  heard  a  voice  saying  : 

"  What  do  you  want?  dm  you  not  even  allow  me  an  hour  of 
rest?" 

Charles  heard  the  voice  and  recognized  it.  Once  more  his  self- 
control  was  on  the  point  of  giving  away,  but  Luigi  had  anticipated 
this  and,  fortunately,  checked  him  in  time.  When  the  turnkey 
stepped  into  the  room  the  chieftain  laid  one  hand  like  an  iron  vice 
around  the  arm  of  Charles  and  the  other  gently  upon  that  young 
man's  lips.  Thus  he  managed  to  impress  on  him  the  necessity  of 
silence  and  checked  the  impulsive  motions  which  seized  the  lover 
on  hearing  her  long-missed  voice.  But,  though  he  dared  not  speak, 
he  was  not  prevented  from  listening,  and  heard  the  turnkey  whis 
per  a  few  cautious  words  and  the  prisoner  responded  with  an  excla- 


DOLORES.  405 

mation  almost  ton  loud  for  the  occasion.  The  guards  at  the  beds 
grasped  their  daggers  more  firmly,  but  the  danger  passed  oft'  with 
out  evil  results  to  anybody.  Again  Charles  heard  the  turnkey — he 
most  likely  warned  her  against  a  repetition  of  such  a  perilous  prac 
tice;  then  two  different  footsteps  became  audible,  the  one  heavy, 
the  other  lighter,  but  both  very  guarded.  Now  they  stepped  into 
the  ante-chamber,  the  light  of  the  lantern  falls  upon  the  intruders, 
and  a  new  "pst!"  on  the  part  of  the  turnkey  is  necessary  to  stop 
the  lady  from  bursting  into  a  shout  of  exultation.  She  conquers 
her  tongue,  but  she  cannot  control  her  foot,  and  nimbly,  but 
noiselessly  she  flies  across  the  room  into  the  extended  arms  of 
Charles. 

"Forward  !  forward!"  the  captain  now  exhorted,  and  the  com 
pany  left  the  room  and  the  castle  in  the  same  order  in  which  it  had 
entered.  A  tap  on  a  sentinel's  shoulder,  and  he  joined  the  proces 
sion.  At  the  gate  the  captain  halted  and  let  the  others  pass 
him — he  counted  them  to  make  sure  that  no  one  had  been  left 
behind — perhaps  a  victim,  perhaps  a  traitor.  The  number  was 
complete. 

"  Anselmo,"  he  said,  "you  have  become  impossible  here.  They'll 
shoot  you  like  a  dog  to-morrow  morning  if  they  find  you.  Go  and 
leave  your  keys  with  Pietro,  and  then  join  us." 

"  They  will  change  the  locks,  siguor." 

' '  We  cannot  help  it.  Do  as  I  tell  you.  Now,  friend  Carlo,  I 
am  ready  to  escort  you." 

He  led  the  way  and  the  happy  couple  followed.  As  yet  they 
had  not  exchanged  a  single  word  ;  but  when  the  main  road  was 
reached  without  accident,  Charles  could  no  longer  abstain  from  ex 
pressing  his  delight. 

"Dolores!" 

"Charles!" 

A  question — a  short  response  !  Two  words  only,  and  yet  vol 
umes  of  thought  and  feeling.  They  sufficed  the  happy  couple  for 
the  rest  of  the  walk.  When  they  reached  the  pass  Luigi  said  to 
Charles  : 

"  You  must  accompany  us  and  stay  with  us  for  a  few  days.  To 
go  to  the  castle  now  would  be  an  invitation  to  the  duke  to  repeat 
his  trick." 


406  DOLORES. 

"  But  the  law  would  uphold  us,  Luigi.  We  could  have  recourse 
to  the  courts. ' ' 

Luigi  laughed. 

"  I  do  not  know  how  it  is  with  you.  across  the  ocean  ;  but,  with 
us,  the  goddess  of  justice  is  only  blind  to  the  poor  and  the  lowly. 
For  the  rich  and  powerful  she  sees  well  enough.  Take  the  word 
of  one  that  knows  the  country  and  loves  you  in  the  bargain.  Come, 
share  the  safety  of  our  stronghold  or,  rather,  let  her  share." 

The  latter  hint  decided.     Turning  to  Dolores  Charles  said  : 

"  You  hear  what  this  man  says,  Dolores.  Will  you  trust  your 
honor  and  your  life  into  his  keeping  ?" 

"1  will,  Charlie,  for  I  think  he  means  well.  Indeed,  I  have 
met  him  before  this,  and  held  him  in  grateful  remembrance." 

"  Very  well,  then,  on  we  go  !"  Charles  responded,  and  the  whole 
troupe  started  up  the  pass.  When  they  reached  the  barrier  of 
rocks,  the  first  faint  rays  of  the  sun  dispelled  the  deep  darkness, 
and,  by  the  light  thus  gained  and  the  assistance  of  a  lantern,  the 
two  fugitives  reached  the  safety  of  the  fort  more  easily  than  they 
had  expected. 


CHAPTER  XLIL 

A     HAIM'Y     MORMNC. 

Luigi  gave  up  his  hut  to  Dolores,  and  the  poor  girl,  who  had 
gone  through  a  sleepless  night  and  anxious  day,  gladly  benefited 
by  the  chance  of  sleeping  a  few  hours  under  her  friend's  protec 
tion.  Charles,  wrapped  in  a  blanket  which  Luigi  had  given  him, 
stretched  himself  before  the  only  entrance  of  the  hut,  containing 
the  treasure  recovered  in  a  double  sense.  No  slumber,  however, 
entered  his  own  eyes,  and,  with  his  hand  on  his  revolver,  he 
awaited  the  light  of  the  day  and  the  awakening  of  Dolores,  which 
at  last  came  before  any  of  the  robbers  had  risen.  The  first  inter 
view  took  place  in  that  sweet  solitude  which  lovers  so  much  covet. 
When  Dolores  stepped  from  the  door  and  saw  him  lying  on  the 
bare  ground,  a  faithful  sentinel,  she  was  moved  by  his  devotion, 
and,  believing  him  still  asleep,  was  on  the  point  of  retreating  to 


DOLORES.  407 

the  interior  of  the  hut;  but,  rising  on  his  elbow,  he  showed  his 
wakefulness  and,  of  course,  checked  her  retreat. 

"Dolores!"  he  cried  again,  springing  to  his  feet.  "I  can 
hardly  realize  the  fact  that  I  am,  after  all,  allowed  not  only  to 
address  you,  but  to  address  you  in  this  manner.  I  have  suffered 
much  for  your  sake,  dearest ;  but  this  moment,  this  blissful  moment 
more  than  repays  me." 

He  had  first  seized  her  hand  and  then,  becoming  more  and  more 
assured,  gradually  drew  her  into  a  fervent  embrace.  A  kiss  sealed 
the  union  of  their  hearts,  by  which  I  do  not  want  my  readers  to 
understand  that  it  remained  without  numerous  successors.  The 
contrary  was  the  case  ;  but  the  first  kiss  between  young  lovers  has 
something  peculiar  within  it.  It  may  be  compared  to  the  breaking 
of  the  ice  on  swelling  rivers  in  the  time  of  spring. 

Dolores  stroked  his  hair  from  his  forehead. 

"  Poor  Charlie  !"  she  said  with  loving  tones.  "  You  look  as  if 
you  had  suffered  ;  but,  I  assure  you,  the  storm  that  passed  over 
our  devoted  heads  has  not  left  me  untouched.  I  was  sick,  Charlie, 
very  sick,  they  tell  me." 

Another  kiss  and  a  warm  embrace  were  his  only  reply. 

"  How  dreadful,"  she  resumed,  "that  the  very  words  in  which 
I  meant  to  express  my  love  to  you  should  have  been  construed  by 
you  as  the  death-warrant  of  your  hope.  I  suppose  our  friends  have 
before  this  explained  to  you  the  mistake  under  which  you  were 
laboring  ' ' 

"They  have  only  hinted  at  it,  Dol ;  but  I  am  ready  to  receive 
it  all  in  detail  now.  In  fact,  I  demand  it,  as  something  due  me. 
I  surely  ought  to  be  indemnified  for  my  long;  continuous  suffer 
ing." 

"There  now!  behold  the  lords  of  creation!  While  they  woo 
us  they  petition;  when  they  have  won  us  they  begin  to  demand. 
My  dear  sir,  do  you  know  that  you  deserve  punishment  rather  than 
reward  for  having  had  so  little  faith  in  my  good  sense  and  judg 
ment  ? — moreover,  for  running  from  us  all  in  such  hot  haste  ?" 

Charles  laughed.  It  was  the  first  genuine  laugh  for  many  a 
dreary  day. 

*'  I  begin  to  fear  that  there  is  no  evasion  from  this  trying  task," 
Dolores  resumed. 


DOLORES. 

"  Indeed  there  isn't ;  but  if  the  shutting  of  both  my  eyes  will 
in  any  way  facilitate  the  confession,  you  are  welcome  to  such  an 
indulgence." 

"  Well,  shut  your  eyes,  then  ;  though  I  am  afraid  you  can  hear 
well  enough  with  your  ears  for  that  matter." 

"Goon,  Dol." 

"So  you  will  have  no  mercy  on  poor  me  ?  Well  listen  then :  I 
stated  that  I  did  not  love  you,  because  I  worshipped  you,  and  was 
pretty  sure  of  committing  idolatry.  There  now  !  I  can  never 
after  this  hold  up  my  head  to  you,  for  if  I  tell  you  that,  for 
some  naughtiness  or  other,  I  shall  love  you  less,  you  will  not  be 
lieve  me." 

"  Have  you  h'nished,  Dol  ?" 

"  Yes,  Charles,  I  have,  but  don't  open  your  eyes  just  yet,  for 
I  am  still  feeling  the  burning  blush  on  my  cheeks." 

"  But  I  think  that  blush  must  be  becoming." 

"  Well,  may  I  open  my  eyes  now  ?  I  cannot  stand  this  absti 
nence  much  longer." 

"  It  will  teach  you  to  shut  your  eyes  to  my  faults  hereafter." 

"  Oh,  Dol,  there  is  plenty  of  time  for  that  when  you  begin  to 
have  some.  At  present  I  much  prefer  to  look  at  your  perfections. 
Just  think  how  long  I  have  been  deprived  of  the  pleasure  of  look 
ing  at  you  at  all." 

"Yes,  that  is  true,  Charlie.  I  see  I  have  been  rather  selfish, 
for  I  have  denied  you  a  pleasure  which  I  have  been  enjoying  all 
the  time.  You  may  open  your  eyes  to  their  double  capacity  now 
to  make  up  for  lost  time." 

"  Thank  you,  Dol ;  besides  I  have  been  squinting  at  you  just  a 
little  bit — a  natural  defect  in  my  right  eye." 

So  they  jested  and  laughed  as  if  they  had  been  separated  but 
one  short  day  instead  of  many  months.  The  reader  may  think 
this  strange,  perhaps,  but  if  he- does  he  cannot  possibly  be  a  good 
judge  of  human  nature.  Our  deepest  emotions  are  least  apt  to 
reach  the  surface.  Niagara  makes  his  mighty  leap  over  a  preci 
pice  and  produces  mist  as  the  result,  We  sometimes  weep  with 
joy  and,  again,  laugh  with  despair.  Great  passions  are  apt  to 
make  silent,  and  railleries  are  often  used  to  pave  the  way  to  mutual 
understandings. 


DOLOKKS.  409 

So  with  Charles  and  Dolores.  While  they  indulged  in  their 
innocent  exchange  of  badinage,  they  were  both  of  them  inexpress 
ibly  happy.  They  would  rather  not  have  said  anything  at  all  .to 
one  another  ;  but  sitting  hand  in  hand,  face  to  face,  would  have 
liked  to  read  from  each  other's  eyes  the  confession  of  love  and 
happiness.  But  the  heart  always  labors  under  a  diffidence  when 
first  the  consciousness  of  mutual  affection  dawns  within  it,  and 
many  innocent  artifices  are  resorted  to  to  break  the  ice  and  lead 
into  a  natural,  even  channel  the  emotions  which  make  the  heart 
beat  wildly  against  the  breast  and  threaten  to  upset  all  the  habits 
and  feelings  of  our  former  life. 

Gradually,  however,  another  chord  of  their  hearts  was  struck. 
They  related  to  each  other  the  sad  experience  of  their  separation, 
and,  approaching  the  present  time,  indulged  in  speculations  of 
what  the  future  would  bring. 

"By  the  by,  Dol,  did  Mr.  Fox  ever  intimate  any  special  reason 
for  visiting  Italy  ?"  Charles  inquired  in  the  course  of  their  conver 
sation. 

"No,  Charles,  but  he  dropped  mysterious  hints,  especially  on 
his  departure  for  Turin.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he  were  hunting 
for  some  relatives  of  mine,  intending  to  surprise  me  with  their  dis 
covery. 

"  Sagacious  as  ever,  Dol,  only  you  didn't  hit  the  nail  in  the 
centre.  Under  other  circumstances  I  would  not  have  spoiled  his 
intentions  by  informing  you  ;  but,  as  matters  stand,  it  is  my  impe 
rious  duty.  Say,  Dol,  have  you  any  idea  from  whose  hands  we 
liberated  you?" 

"  No,  Charles,  I  had  no  chance  to  find  out.  When  they  seized 
me  yesterday  in  the  hut,  to  which  they  had  allured  me  under  false 
pretenses,  they  put  a  veil  over  my  face  and,  throwing  me  into  a 
carriage,  drove  away  at  a  great  speed.  We  continued  on  the  way 
all  day  and  a  portion  of  the  night,  and  when  I  now  consider  the 
short  distance  from  this  place  to  the  castle  across  the  lake  I  cannot 
help  thinking  that  they  took  me  here  and  there  in  order  to  create 
in  rne  the  thought  that  I  was  far  away  from  my  people,  and  conse 
quently  entirely  in  the  power  of  my  captors.  You  see,  therefore, 
that  I  had  no  chance  in  forming  any  guess  at  their  character.  In 
deed  I  sometimes  thought  that  they  were  robbers,  and  I  even 


410  DOLORES. 

wronged  our  good  host  by  believing  him  to  be  implicated  in  the  at 
tempt  ;  but,  although  I  am  now  fully  convinced  of  his  innocence, 
I 'am  as  much  at  a  loss  to  divine  the  character  of  my  kidnappers  as 
ever. ' ' 

' '  I  do  not  wonder,  Dol.  Mrs.  Fox  entertained  the  same  thought. 
The  truth  is  too  disgusting  to  entertain,  at  least  for  an  American 
mind,  although  such  things  are  common  enough  here,  if  what 
Luigi  says  is  true." 

"  But  Charlie,  what  do  you  mean  ?  You  seem  to  wish  to  pre 
pare  me  for  something  horrible." 

"  Indeed  I  do  ;  or  don't  you  think  it  horrible  that  an  uncle 
should  cause  his  brother's  child  to  be  kidnapped  as  soon  as  he  learns 
of  her  existence  and  arrival  ?" 

"  My  uncle  !  my  father's  brother  !" 

'"Nobody  else.  It  was  from  the  castle  of  the  duke  di  Gatana 
that  we  liberated  you." 

Dolores  hung  her  head. 

"  Oh,  my  glorious  anticipations  !"  she  cried,  "  where  are  they? 
The  stranger's  land  has  nursed  and  educated  me,  and  my  native 
•country  puts  the  adder  in  my  way  to  sting  my  foot  in  crossing  its 
very  border.  Come,  Charlie,  let  us  flee  from  a  country  where  such 
things  are  possible  !  Let  us  return  to  America,  where  people  pre 
serve  a  warm  and  feeling  heart  under  a  cold  surface." 

"I  have  no  objection  to  that,  Dolores  ;  indeed  it  is  my  wish 
that  it  should  be  done.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  I  must  caution  you 
not  to  condemn  this  land  for  the  meanness  of  an  individual.  You 
recollect  that  in  America  you  found  bad  persons  on  your  path  of 
life  as  well  as  virtuous  ones,  and  if  you  draw  the  balance  it  is  very 
doubtful  which  side  will  preponderate." 

"You  may  be  right,  Charlie,  but  what  object  could  the  duke 
have  had  to  thus  persecute  me  ?" 

"Can  you  not  guess,  Dolores?  By  the  peace  of  Villa  Franca 
"the  domains  of  your  father  have  been  restored  to  your  family,  and 
you,  being  the  rightful  heir,  the  duke  naturally — pardon  me,  I 
meant  unnaturally — tried  to  get  you  into  his  possession." 

"  Ah,  now  I  understand  many  things  which  were  a  mystery  to 
me  before.  My  father  heard  of  this  at  home  and  planned  the  voy 
age  to  secure  my  claims," 


DOLORES.  411 

"At  least  I  think  so.  Maybe  he  wished  at  the  same  time  to 
improve  your  health  and  quicken  our  reunion." 

"Good,  dear  father.  But  I  do  not  covet  wealth  and  rank 
which  is  associated  with  such  danger.  If  you  love  me,  Charles, 
let  us  return  to  Maine,  where  nature  is  cold,  but  the  hearts  of  the 
people  are  warm." 

"  You  express  my  sentiments,  Dol ;  but  just  at  present  we  can 
not  well  depart.  You  forget  that  Mr.  Fox  has  not  yet  returned 
from  Turin.  I  should  not  wonder  much  if  he,  too,  was  in  the 
power  of  the  duke." 

"Yes,  indeed!  His  journey  had  escaped  me;  but  it  is  no 
wonder,  Charlie.  The  last  few  days  have  brought  so  many  wild 
storms  and  filled  me  with  so  many  conflicting  feelings  that  it  is  but 
natural  to  get  confused.  So  you  think  that  father  went  to  see  the 
duke." 

"No  doubt  about  it,  Dol,  and,  in  his  innocence  Mr.  Fox  be 
trayed  the  secret  of  your  place  of  residence." 

"But  what  is  to  be  done,  Charlie?  I  must  confess  I  am  at 
a  loss  to  conceive  a  plan  that  will  at  all  answer  the  purpose." 

"Well,  I  have  one,  Dol,  which  I  think  will  answer.  This 
morning,  while  wratching  on  the  sill  of  the  hut,  I  had  time  to  think, 
and,  improving  my  opportunity,  managed  to  form  a  plan." 

"Ah,  Charlie,  you  contemplate  new  struggles  then.  If  my 
voice  is  heard,  we  shall  embark  without  delay  and  leave  a  country 
where  my  nearest  relatives  threaten  my  liberty  and  even  my  life 
for  the  sa*ke  of  miserable,  lucre." 

"Dolores,  confide  in  me.  My  plan  will  not  in  the  least  expose 
you.  I  meant  to  send  a  trusty  messenger  to  the  castle  this  morn 
ing  with  a  note  to  the  effect  that  you  are  safe  and  under  my  pro 
tection  ;  but  that  the  ill-will  of  a  powerful  enemy  of  your  family 
makes  it  unsafe  for  you  or  me  to  return  to  the  castle.  I  next  mean 
to  state  that  I  guess  the  whereabouts  of  Mr.  Fox,  and  request  them 
to  break  up  their  household  and  depart  for  Turin  as  soon  as  possi 
ble.  There  they  must  report  at  once  to  the  American  Minister, 
and  leave  word  where  we  may  find  them  or  vice  versa.  What  do 
you  think  of  this  ? ' ' 

"  It  is  well  enough  as  far  as  they  are  concerned  ;  but  what  are 
we  to  do  ?" 


412  DOLOKKS. 

-'I  am  coming  to  that  presently.  Luigi  will  most  likely  pro 
pose  that  you  shall  remain  in  his  protection  while  I  go  to  Turin 
and  look  for  your  father — 

He  was  going  to  proceed,  but  Dolores  nestled  to  his  side  with 
such  a  look  of  alarm  and  prayerful  persuasion  that  he  checked 
himself,  saying  : 

"  Fear  nothing  dearest,  I  haven't  the  slightest  idea  to  forsake 
you.  Not  that  I  did  not  trust  Luigi,  but  no  man  is  master  of  his 
feelings,  and  our  host,  now  a  noble  fellow,  might  by  a  sudden  pas 
sion  for  you  be  changed  into  our  enemy.  Indeed  I  fear  you  have 
already  made  a  deeper  impression  on  his  heart  than  is  good  for  his 
tranquility,  and  the  sooner  you  quit  his  company  the  better  for  all 
of  us.  My  plan  was  this.  We  stay  here  until  dark  this  evening 
and  then  proceed  under  the  shelter  of  the  night  to  the  next  village, 
which  is  only  a  few  miles  distant.  There  wre  procure  a  carriage 
that  takes  us  to  the  nearest  railroad  station  and  once  on  an  express 
train  bound  for  the  Capital,  any  and  every  cause  for  fear  is  at  an 
end.  But,  in  order  to  escape  annoyance  on  the  road,  it  will  be  best 
for  you  to  assume  male  attire.  Luigi  has  a  variety  of  clothes  I  see, 
and  will  no  doubt  furnish  us  with  a  suit  which  will  answer  the  pur 
pose.  "What  do  you  think  of  plan  number  two?  " 

"It  is  well  enuough,  though  I  do  not  like  the  idea  of  assuming 
the  garb  of  your  sex." 

"  I  deem  it  essential  to  your  safety." 

"Then  I  shall  submit;  but  the  men  are  getting  awake  now. 
Come,  let  me  retire  to  the  hut,  I  dislike  so  much  to  meet  their 
coarse  glances." 

Dolores  was  right.  A  general  stir  became  visible  in  the  camp 
and  Charles,  therefore,  granted  her  resonable  request.  She  had 
hardly  retired,  when  Luigi  came  up  and  bidding  our  friend  a  good 
morning,  congratulated  him  on  the  safe  recovery  of  his  lady. 
Charles  seized  and  warmly  shook  his  hand. 

''Luigi,"  he  said  "you  have  done  me  a  service  which  I  can 
never  forget.  If  you  had  saved  my  life  I  should  not  be  under  half 
the  obligations  as  now.  I  cannot  bear  the  thought  of  leaving  you 
here,  exposed  to  the  dangers  of  your  calling  and  the  communion  of 
the  low  and  degraded.  I  shall  write  to  you  on  reaching  the  capital. 
Can  you  give  me  an  address  to  which  I  may  direct  my  letters  ?  " 


DOLOPxES.  413 

"I  can,  Carlo,  just  let  me  write  it  in  your  memorandum  book. 
So,  if  you  write  to  that  address,  you  may  be  sure  that  I  shall  get 
your  letter.  Am  I  to  understand  that  you  intend  to  leave  me  soon." 

"  Yes,  Signor  Luigi,  we  mean  to  leave  this  evening.  Can  you 
sell  me  a  suit  of  men's  clothing  that  will  fit  Dolores  ?  I  think  that 
such  disguise  will  save  me  from  annoyance  until  she  reaches  Turin." 

"  Yes,  Carlo,  I  have  the  suit  of  a  page,  which  my  men  took  on 
one  occassion  from  the  surplus  of  a  rich  family.  You  need  not 
tell  the  lady  how  I  came  by  it." 

"I  certainly  will  not.  But  I  have  more  favors  to  ask.  Can 
you  send  a  trusty  fellow  with  a  note  of  mine  to  the  castle  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  can.  Write  your  note  and  I  guarantee  its  safe  de 
livery  in  a  couple  of  hours." 

"  Thank  you.  You  are  a  pearl  of  a  brigand,  but  you  are  more 
valuable  for  better  purposes.  Give  me  your  pledge,  Luigi,  that 
you  will  try  your  best  to  tear  yourself  away  from  this  degrading 
neighborhood  and  pursuit." 

Luigi's  eye  was  moist  when  he  laid  his  hand  into  that  of  Charles 
with  a  firm  pressure.  That  pressure  was  all  his  answer.  Charles 
went  into  the  hut  and  taking  from  his  small  valise  paper,  ink  and 
pen,  wrote  the  following  note  : 

LUIGI'S  CAMP,  Aug.  9th,  1859. 
Mrs.  C.  Fox. 

Dear  Madam:— Allow  me  to  congratulate  you  on  the  safe  recov 
ery  of  your  daughter.  She  is  with  me  now,  sending  her  love  to  you 
and  Lucy,  but  she  cannot  return  to  the  castle  on  account  of  the  en 
mity  of  a  powerful  relative,  who  seeks  her  destruction,  in  order  to 
rid  Jjimself  of  her  claims  to  his  property.  I  am  going  to  take  her  in 
disguise  to  the  capital,  to  which  place  I  request  you  to  depart  without 
delay.  Do  not  stop  to  sell  what  you  cannot  take  along,  it  is  better  to 
sacrifice  than  to  delay.  Depart  at  once  with  Lucy,  and  on  ariving 
at  Turin  c:»ll  at  the  American  Ministry.  There  you  will  receive  word 
from  your  friend 

CHARLES  FUCHS. 

To  this  Dolores  added  a  P.  8.  which  ran  as  follows  : 

Dear  Mother  and  Sister: — Rest  easy  on  my  account.  I  am  well 
and  in  good  spirits.  This  evening  Charles  and  I  are  going  to  leave 
for  Turin  to  join  father.  Follow  as  soon  as  you  can,  but  inform  no 
one  of  your  intentions.  Your  daughter, 

DOLORES. 

This  note  was  put  into  an  envelope  and  then,  without  any  ad 
dress,  handed  to  Luigi.  The  captain  picked  a  lad  of  some  fifteen 


414  DOLORES. 

years,  with  handsome  countenance  and  intelligent  eyes,  and  gave 
him  the  necessary  instructions. 

"  You  answer  for  the  letter  with  your  life,  Bernardo." 

The  lad  nodded,  and,  hiding  the  letter  in  a  leather  pocket  on 
his  breast,  shot  away  from  the  fort  with  the  agility  and  quickness 
of  a  spaniel. 

The  day  wore  away  slowly,  and  Dolores  thought  it  would  never 
end.  Luigi  treated  her  with  great  deference,  and  her  fare  was  not 
only  good,  but  even  excellent ;  but  she  could  not  rid  herself  of  a, 
certain  feeling  of  fear  and  insecurity,  on  account  of  the  promis 
cuous  society  she  was  compelled  to  share.  If  she  had  understood 
these  people  better  she  would  have  set  aside  her  unnecessary  anx 
iety.  She  would  have  known,  then,  that  to  them  the  laws  of  hos 
pitality  are  sacred,  and  that,  instead  of  having  any  desire  of  harm 
ing  her,  each  and  all  of  them  would  have  laid  down  their  lives 
sooner  than  to  allow  her  foes  to  injure  her.  When  the  afternoon 
wore  away  she  retired  to  the  hut  with  the  suit  which  Luigi  had 
furnished  her,  and  half  an  hour  afterwards  returned  as  handsome 
a  lad  as  the  sun  ever  shone  upon.  The  black  velvet  pants  and 
jacket  showed  her  symmetrical  body  to  a  great  advantage,  and  the 
Kossuth  hat  and  top  boots  gave  her  an  air  of  mischievous  sauci- 
ness,  which  she  was  far  from  feeling.  She  blushed  deeply  on  meet 
ing  the  admiring  glance  of  Charles  and  Luigi. 

"  Don't  look  at  me  like  that,  Charlie,"  she  said  with  an  embar 
rassed  smile,  "  or  I'll  never  come  out  to  you." 

"  That  would  be  a  great  blessing  for  all  the  girls  of  this  land. 
Dear  me,  what  bleeding  hearts  you'll  leave  behind  on  your  jour 
ney !" 

"  Don't  make  fun  of  me,  Charles.     I  feel  very  serious." 

"So  much  more  reason,  Dol,  for  cheering  you  up.  But  what 
did  you  do  with  all  your  splendid  curls  ?  I  hope  you  did  not  cut 
them." 

Instead  of  an  answer  she  lifted  her  hat  and  displayed  a  narrow 
ribbon,  by  means  of  which  she  had  ingeniously  shortened  her  hair, 
without  cutting  it. 

"That  will  do  very  well ;  but  now,  Luigi,  tell  me,  can  you  pro 
cure  us  a  carriage  to  take  us  to  the  railroad  station  ?  Perhaps  the 


DOLORES.  415 

police  are  still  on  the  Avatch,  and  I  would  not  for  the  world  fall 
into  their  clutches  now." 

"Of  course,  you  must  not."  Fortunately,  I  have  my  connec 
tions  and  I  think  I  can  manage  to  procure  what  you  want.  I  shall 
accompany  you  myself  as  far  as  Canti,  but  still  it  will  be  better  to 
send  somebody  in  advance  to  prevent  unnecessary  delay." 

He  looked  around  as  if  he  was  reflecting  in  his  mind  whom  he 
had  better  send.  At  last  his  eye  rested  on  a  young  man  of  clever 
looks,  and,  beckoning  him,  gave  him  the  necessary  instructions  in 
an  undertone.  Luigi  evidently  kept  good  discipline  ;  for  the  man 
showed  as  ready  and  even  as  cheerful  an  obedience  as  the  first  mes 
senger.  He  nodded,  and,  taking  the  direction  of  the  only  outlet, 
disappeared  from  sight. 

An  hour  afterwards  Luigi  deemed  it  late  and  dark  enough  to 
begin  the  intended  expedition.  He  assisted  Dolores  with  respect 
ful  assiduity  in  climbing  over  the  rocks,  and  soon  the  trio  descended 
the  pass,  this  time — as  Dolores  sincerely  hoped — for  the  last  time. 
When  they  reached  the  road  they  turned  to  the  right,  thus  going 
over  ground  familiar  to  Charles,  as  he  had  come  that  way  only  two 
days  ago.  Still  the  company  of  Luigi  was  welcome,  even  neces 
sary,  as  darkness  had  now  set  in,  and  several  cross-roads  made  it 
difficult  for  a  stranger  to  keep  the  right  direction.  After  walking 
about  three  or  four  miles  they  reached  the  place  which  Luigi  had 
called  Canti.  He  stopped  his  companions  a  few  hundred  steps 
from  the  first  house. 

"Wait  here  a  minute  ;  I  had  better  reconnoitre.  Some  voice 
within  me  warns  me  that  something  is  wrong.  Step  into  these 
bushes  and  do  not  stir  until  I  return." 

With  these  words  he  left  them,  and  it  was  a  full  half  hour  be 
fore  he  returned. 

"  I  thank  the  Holy  Virgin  for  inspiring  me  with  caution,"  he 
said,  on  reaching  them.  "If  I  had  suffered  you  to  proceed  you 
would  now  be  in  the  hands  of  the  magistrates.  They  have  made 
you  out  a  fellow  even  more  terrible  than  myself,  and  your  case 
would  have  been  desperate  if  they  had  caught  you." 

Dolores  drew  nearer  to  her  friend  as  if  she  wanted  to  protect 
him.  Luigi  saw  the  motion. 

"  Fear  nothing,  signora.     Thanks  to  my  foreboding,  everything 


lit)  DOLORES. 

is  safe  now.  My  messenger  was  cunning  enough  to  elude  the  grip 
of  these  cerberusses,  and  has  caused  a  one-horse  carriage  to  leave 
the  place  and  wait  for  us  on  the  other  side.  But  we  have  to  make 
the  circuit  of  this  town,  and  1  fear  signora  will  be  much  fatigued 
before  she  reaches  the  carriage." 

''Never  mind  me!"  said  Dolores  so  cheerfully  that  Luigi, 
without  further  parley,  led  the  way.  The  road  was  by  no  means 
pleasant,  or,  rather,  there  was  no  road  at  all.  Fences,  fields  and 
even  ditches  had  to  be  traversed,  and  sometimes  it  was  necessary 
for  Dolores  to  lean  on  the  arms  of  both  her  companions  in  order  to 
overcome  the  obstacles  in  her  way.  It  was  well  that  her  feet  were 
protected  by  the  page's  boots,  for  they  prevented  at  least  the  mois 
ture  from  penetrating.  When  they  at  last  reached  the  road  on  the 
other  side  of  the  town  the  poor  girl  was  very  much  fatigued,  and 
never  in  all  her  past  experience  had  she  felt  such  a  great  relief 
and  pleasant  sensations  on  entering  a  carriage  as  on  that  occa 
sion.  She  felt  too  grateful  for  Luigi's  services,  however,  to  for 
get  to  thank  him.  Reaching  her  hand  to  him  from  the  carriage 
she  said  : 

"  Signer  Luigi,  this  is  not  the  place  nor  the  time  to  thank  you. 
I  join  my  entreaties  to  those  of  Charles — give  us  an  opportunity 
of  seeing  you  again,  and  let  us  show  by  our  actions  how  much  we 
appreciate  your  generous  conduct." 

Luigi  was  too  depely  moved  to  reply  in  words.  He  pressed 
his  lips  upon  the  white  hand  lying  in  his  and  then  relinquished  it. 
Then,  turning  to  Charles,  he  drew  him  into  a  long  and  fervent 
embrace. 

"The  Holy  Virgin  keep  you,"  he  whispered,  and,  withdrawing 
with  hurried  steps,  disappeared  in  the  darkness.  Charles  gained 
his  seat  besi-de  Dolores,  and  the  driver,  cracking  his  whip,  set  the 
vehicle  in  motion.  The  parting  from  their  tried  friend  inclined 
the  young  couple  to  silence. 

"  I  cannot  bear  the  thought  of  leaving  the  noble  fellow  to  his 
fate.  He  deserves  an  effort  to  draw  him  from  his  forlorn  condition, 
and  I  shall  make  it." 

A  pressure  of  Dolores'  hand  assured  him  of  her  sympathy. 
They  talked  about  the  brigand's  noble  qualities  and  how  they  might 
execute  their  generous  intentions.  Hour  after  hour  wore  away. 


DOLORES.  417 

and  when  the  first  streaks  of  light  appeared  in  the  eastern  sky  the 
carriage  reached  the  railroad  station.  Obedient  to  his  instructions 
the  driver  stopped  before  the  place,  and,  on  foot,  Charles  and  Do- 
Idres  completed  the  short  remainder  of  their  journey.  There  were 
not  many  persons  up  yet,  but  there  who  were  up  and  saw  the  wan 
derers  surely  had  no  idea  that  they  had  come  so  far  that  night. 
Their  freeness  from  baggage  and  neat  attire  precluded  all  such 
thoughts  and,  unmolested,  the  pair  reached  the  depot.  Luigi  had 
taken  his  measures  to  perfection.  Fifteen  minutes  after  their  arri 
val  the  locomotive  of  the  eastern  train  whistled  in  the  distance, 
and  shortly  afterwards  the  train  came  rolling  up  to  the  depot  and 
stopped  along  the  platform.  The  tickets  had  already  been  secured 
and  now  our  adventurers  took  their  seats  and,  the  time  of  stoppage 
having  expired,  the  train  rolled  on  toward  the  capital  in  the  distant 
west. 


CHAPTER  XLTII. 


A    DUKE    CORNERED. 

Mr.  Fox  was  walking  up  and  down  his  room.  He  was  restless 
and  nervous  ;  no  wonder  !  for  he  had  been  a  full  week  with  his 
grace,  the  duke,  and  yet  he  saw  no  evidence  of  that  gentleman's 
getting  ready  to  join  him  in  a  trip  to  the  Lago  di  Como.  The  ex 
cuses  of  his  grace,  however,  were  so  numerous  and  his  sorrow  at 
being  detained  seemingly  so  sincere,  that  Mr.  Fox  rather  pitied 
4han  blamed  him,  and  tried  to  bear  the  delay  with  becoming  pa 
tience.  Yet  he  was  restless  and  nervous  on  the  occasion  of  our 
visit  at  his  quarters,  and  even  revolving  in  his  mind  the  expe 
diency  of  starting  without  the  duke,  when  all  at  once  a  knock  at 
his  door  engaged  his  attention  and  drew  his  thoughts  into  a  differ 
ent  channel.  He  went  and  opened,  but  the  sight  which  met  his 
gaze  was  so  unexpected  that  he  started  back. 

"  Charlie  !    Is  it  possible  !  my  dear  Charlie  in  person  !" 
He  might  have  continued  his  exclamations  if  Charles  had  not 
cautioned  him  with  a  "pst!"     The  young  man  was  particular  in 

27 


418  DOLORES. 

shutting  the  door  and  securing  it  with  a  bolt  inside,  and  only  when 
this  task  was  performed,  he  turned  around  and,  extending  his  hand 
to  Mr.  Fox,  said,  with  a  smile  : 

' '  I  am  glad  to  see  myself  so  welcome  ;  but  you  would  do  well 
to  express  yourself  in  a  more  guarded  manner." 

"  Why  so,  Charlie  ;  why  so  ?  I  don't  know  at  which  to  wonder 
most — your  unexpected  appearance  here,  or  the  guarded  manner  of 
your  entrance.-  Why,  my  boy,  don't  you  know  that  we  are  in  the 
house  of  Dolores'  uncle,  the  duke." 

"  I  have  an  accurate  knowledge  of  that  fact,  Mr.  Fox,  and  my 
precaution  is  based  on  that  very  knowledge." 

Mr.  Fox  was  stupefied. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Charlie  ?     I  don't  understand  you." 

"  I  mean  that  you  have  been  fearfully  duped,  sir. 

"  Duped  Charlie  ?    That  cannot  be." 

' '  It  can  be,  because  it  is.  Tell  me,  sir,  does  not  the  duke  re 
tard  your  departure  from  day  to  day." 

' '  He  does,  because  he  wants  to  accompany  me  and  cannot  dis 
engage  himself." 

"  I  assure  you,  he  has  no  such  desire.  Did  it  never  strike  you 
that  he  might  merely  play  a  game  and  keep  you  here  in  order  to 
keep  you  from  crossing  his  purposes  ?" 

"  No,  Charlie,  that  thought  never  occurred  tome;  but  now, 
since  you  mention  it,  his  manoeuvres  assume  a  suspicious  aspect. 
What  made  you  ask  that  question  ?" 

"The  knowledge  of  the  duke's  intention.  Did  he  not  learn 
from  you  the  whereabouts  of  Dolores  ?" 

"  I  think  he  did,"  Mr.  Fox  replied,  with  evident  alarm. 

"  Well,  he  benefited  by  that  knowledge,  and  stole  her  from  the 
castle  on  the  lakeshore." 

Mr.  Fox  stepped  back  with  a  look  of  consternation. 

"  You  are  joking,  Charlie;   tell  me  that  you  are  joking,  boy." 

* '  I  never  was  more  earnest  in  my  life,  sir. ' ' 

"  And  I  am  staying  here  day  after  day  wasting  my  time  like  a 
fool.  But  wait,  Mr.  Duke,  you  shall  pay  for  this.  Come,  Charlie, 
let  us  go  to  the  American  embassy,  to  the  police,  the  king  !  Let 
us  see  whether  a  miserable  grandee  can  thus  abuse  an  American 
citizen  with  impunity." 


DOLOKES.  419 

The  worthy  man  ran  for  his  hat  and  would  have  shot  from  the 
room  in  hotjiaste  if  Charles  had  not  retained  him  forcibly. 

"  Mr.  Fox,"  he  said,  "your  haste  would  only  spoil  what  has 
not  yet  been  spoiled.  Fortunately,  I  learned  the  distress  of  Do 
lores  in  time  to  save  her,  but  it  was  a  narrow  escape,  I  assure 
you." 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  all  at  once,  you  wicked  fellow  ?"  Mr. 
Fox  said  somewhat  angry.  ' '  Thank  God  for  that  timely  interfer 
ence.  But  come,  let  us  leave  this  hotbed  of  treachery  without 
delay.  Not  another  night  will  I  sleep  under  this  roof  !" 

"Neither  you  shall;  but,  I  repeat,  that  hurry  is  more  apt  to 
injure  than  to  benefit  us.  We  have  plenty  time  to  leave  this  palace 
before  night.  Just  now  I  want  you  to  sit  down  and  listen  to  all 
the  many  things  I  have  to  tell  you." 

"  Well,  fire  away,  boy,"  Mr.  Fox  replied,  taking  a  seat,  but 
chafing  all  the  while  like  a  chained  lion, 

Charles  began  his  tale,  and  before  long  Mr.  Fox  became  so  in 
terested  that  he  even  forgot  that  he  had  been  impatient.  He  lis 
tened  with  breathless  suspense  to  the  recital  of  his  daughter's 
narrow  escape,  and,  when  Charles  had  done,  he  shook  his  hand  and 
said  : 

"They  say  babies  have  their  guardian  angels,  but  I  now  per 
ceive  that  boobies  have  as  well.  I  am  a  boojby,  Charlie,  a  dolt,  and 
you  my  guardian  angel.  Providence  had  pity  on  my  stupid  head 
and  sent  you  on  my  track  to  correct  my  blunders.  Charles,  what 
a  fool  I  have  made  of  myself." 

"Now,  Mr.  Fox,  I  cannot  consent  to  listen  to  any  such  disre 
spectful  language  bearing  upon  a  certain  gentleman  I  highly  es 
teem  and  love.  You  will  oblige  me  by  discontinuing  it  at  once. 
Have  you  a  right  to  call  yourself  ugly  names,  because  in  the 
goodness  of  your  heart  you  have  been  deceived  by  an  arrant 
knave?" 

"That's  right;  smooth  it  up,  my  boy,  so  that  I  can  bear  look 
ing  in  a  mirror  again.  Goodness  of  heart !  Yes,  indeed — stupidity 
of  brain!" 

' '  No,  sir,  I  do  believe  that  I  or  any  other  man  would  not  have 
fared  any  better." 


420  DOLORES. 

"Yes,  you  would;  you  would  have  smelled  the  rat  ten  steps 
ahead." 

"I  thank  you  in  the  name  of  my  nasal  organ,"  Charles  replied, 
indulging  in  a  moderate  laugh.  "  But,  now  stop  abusing  yourself; 
we  can  use  the  time  for  something  better." 

"  Very  well,  my  boy,  I  cave  in.  I  am  not  fit  for  anything  but 
listening  anyhow.  You  command  hereafter  and  I'll  obey.  Go 
ahead,  sir!" 

"  Any  way  you  please,  sir,  if  we  only  accomplish  our  purpose. 
Dolores  has  become  much  disgusted  at  her  relations  in  consequence 
of  his  "  coup  "  and  desires  nothing  better  than  to  return  to  Amer 
ica  at  once." 

"  Cannot  be  done,  sir  ;  cannot  be  thought  of  !  "  Mr.  Fox  ex 
claimed.  "  What  vacate  the  field  in  the  face  of  such  knavish  con 
duct  ?  No,  indeed.  I  mean  to  show  the  Duke  that  an  American 
gentleman  cannot  be  trifled  with,  if  he  is  ever  so  much  of  a  dolt." 

"  Now,  don't  sir,"  Charles  said  entreatingly.  "but  as  regards 
your  intentions,  they  meet  my  approbation.  It  is  our  duty  to  pre 
serve  Dolores'  claims  even  against  her  wishes,  and  I  am  of  the 
opinion  that  the  lawless  conduct  of  her  uncle  has  put  the  game 
into  our  hands.  We  have  all  the  trumps  and  must  win,  if  we  com. 
mit  no  blunders." 

"  But  we  will  if  I  am  concerned  in  it,  Charlie.  Do  me  the  fa 
vor  to  leave  me  entirely" out  of  the  question." 

"  Your  duties  will  be  neither  difficult  nor  ardent.  First,  I  want 
you  to  go  the  Embassy,  where  Dolores  will  be  delighted  to  receive 
you." 

"  That  step  meets  my  hearty  appreciation." 

"  Next  to  that,  I  want  you  to  consult  the  minister,  as  to  a  pro 
per  place  of  residence  in  the  neighborhood  of  his  hotel." 

"That  is  not  very  difficult  either." 

"Thirdly  I  want  you  to  look  out  for  Mrs.  Fox  and  Lucy  and 
take  care  of  them.  They  will  call  at  the  Embassy,  you  recollect." 

"Agreed;  what  else?" 

"  Nothing,  Mr.  Fox,  except  to  hold  yourself  in  readiness  for  any 
new  developments,  and  keep  at  home  as  much  as  possible,  so  that 
I  may  find  you  without  delay  and  trouble." 

Mr.  Fox  took  his  hat. 


DOLORES.  421 

"  I  like  that  program,  Charlie."  he  said,  and  I  think  that  1  can 
carry  it  out  without  any  further  blunders'.     Can  I  go  now  ?  " 
\     Charles  could  not  help  laughing. 

"  Yes,  sir,  you  may  and  tell  the  minister  to  keep  an  eye  on  this 
palace,  in  case  I  should  not  show  myself  in  an  hour  or  so." 

"  We'll  watch  you,  Charlie,  you  may  depend  on  that,  and  now 
I'll  slip  away.  Don't  tell  me  anything  about  your  intentions ;  my 
head  is  swimming  as  it  is,  in  consequence  of  all  the  stuff  that  has 
been  crammed  into  it." 

He  opened  the  door  and  slipped  silently  down  stairs,  as  if  he 
feared  to  be  stopped  before  reaching  the  portal.  But  nobody  made 
any  signs  to  intercept  his  exit.  The  Duke  had  evidently  not  heard 
from  his  agent  yet,  and  having  reached  the  street  he  inquired  for 
the  American  Embassy,  and  started  towards  it  with  such  haste,  as 
if  a  spectre  were  at  his  heels. 

We  must  let  him  go  and  return  to  Charles  as  the  person  acting 
just  now  the  principal  role.  Having  waited  long  enough  for  Mr. 
Fox  to  reach  the  street,  he  rang  the  bell  and  told  the  entering  ser 
vant  to  take  his  compliments  to  the  Duke  and  that  Mr.  Fox  would 
like  to  pay  his  attention  to  his  grace. 

The  servant  looked  so  stupified  on  seeing  a  new  face  in  that 
room  that  Charles  thought  best  to  explain. 

"  I  am  Mr.  Fox  Jr.,"  he  said ;  but  you  need  not  mention  that 
to  his  grace.  I  shall  explain  it  myself." 

The  servant  withdrew  and  five  minutes  afterwards  returned  with 
the  message  that  the  Duke  would  be  happy  to  receive  Mr.  Foggs. 

Charles  followed  the  man  and  begged  him  to  show  him  the 
Duke's  room.  On  reaching  the  ante-chamber  the  servant  on  duty 
was  as  astonished  as  his  comrade  had  been.  He  stepped  before  the 
curtained  door,  as  if  he  meant  to  stop  the  advance  of  the  stranger. 

"  The  Duke  expects  me,"  Charles  addressed  him.  "  I  am  Mr. 
Fox  Junior." 

The  servant  seemed  still  doubtful  as  to  the  propriety  of  admit 
ting  him  ;  but  the  visitor  moved  with  so  much  assurance  and 
elegance  that  he  was  afraid  to  offend  him  by  still  detaining  him. 
Opening  the  door  he  said : 

"  Signer  Foggs,  Jr." 

The  last  word  made  the  Duke  raise  his  head  in  wonderment  and 


422  DOLORES. 

when  he  saw  a  perfect  stranger  entering  his  apartment,  lie  started 
up  in  surprise  and  seemed  inclined  to  call  his  servants  for  the  pur 
pose  of  ejecting  a  man  that  had  secured  an  entrance  by  false  pre* 
tences.  But  the  polite  bow  and  the  noble  appearance  of  the  young 
man  made  him  hesitate. 

u  What  does  this  signify  ?  "  he  asked  rather  sharply.  ''I  ex 
pected  a  certain  Mr.  Foggs,  and  most  justly  wonder  at  seeing  a 
stranger  enter  instead." 

"You  see  Mr.  Fox  before  you.  My  name  is  Charles  Fuchs, 
and  my  relative,  who  is  just  now  engaged,  begs  your  grace  to  ac 
cept  me  as  his  representative." 

The  duke  did  not  seem  to  be  much  assured  by  this  reply.  What 
did  this  change  signify  ?  Did  the  stranger  speak  the  truth  ?  and  if 
he  did,  would  the  duke  gain  much  by  the  change  ?  There  was  a 
certain  something  in  that  young  man's  eye  which  told  the  duke 
that  it  might  not  be  very  safe  to  trifle  with  him.  He,  therefore, 
looked  at  Charles  without  saying  a  word ;  but,  if  he  meditated 
strong  measures  against  the  intruder,  Charles  spoiled  his  calcula 
tions  by  resuming  in  a  tone  of  great  politeness  : 

"  Your  grace  need  fear  nothing  from  my  person,  and  if  you 
will  grant  me  the  favor  of  a  short  interview,  you  can  soon  convince 
yourself  of  the  correctness  of  my  statement." 

The  young  man  certainly  did  not  look  like  an  assassin  ;  so 
the  duke  thought  there  could  be  no  great  risk  in  granting  his  re 
quest. 

"Take  a  seat,  then,  signor,"  he  replied;  "  I  am  curious  to  re 
ceive  the  explanation  of  the  qui  pro  quo." 

Charless  took  a  chair. 

"In  order  not  to  occupy  your  grace's  time  longer  than  neces 
sary,"  he  said,  "  I'll  enter  into  the  subject  of  my  call  without  any 
preface.  I  am  authorized  by  Mr.  Fox  and  Miss  «Dolores  di  Gutuiui 
to  enter  into  any  amicable  settlement  of  that  lady's  claims  your 
grace  may  desire  to  make." 

The  duke  winced  under  these  words.  He  saw  at  once  that  he 
had  a  different  person  to  deal  with.  This  man  meant  business.  For 
a  moment  he  was  seriously  alarmed,  but,  recollecting  a  certain  dis 
patch  he  had  received  which  was  signed  "Giacomo,"  and  contained 
the  statement  that  "  everything  ivas  right, "  he  roused  his  spirits 


DOLORES.  423 

and  entered  without  delay  upon  the  execution  of  a  plan  which,  as 
he  thought,  would  crush  any  further  aspirations  of  these  people  in 
the  bud. 

"Amicable  settlement?"  he  asked,  laying  a  good  portion  of  de 
rision  in  his  words.  "  Indeed,  sir,  I  am  getting  tired  of  this  farce. 
On  inquiry,  I  have  learned  that  the  party  whose  interests  you  pre 
tend  to  advocate — I  mean  a  certain  lady  pretending  to  be  my 
niece — does  only  exist  in  imagination." 

Now  the  duke  expected  to  see  the  young  stranger  fire  up  and 
use  insultingjlanguage,  thus  furnishing  him  with  an  excuse  to  have 
him  ejected  from  the  palace.  Being  in  possession  of  the  heiress, 
he  would,  after  that,  brand  all  their  claims  as  attempts  at  defraud 
ing  him  out  of  his  possessions.  The  disappearance  of  the  girl  he 
would  interpret  as  a  measure  on  their  part  to  cast  a  shadow  on  his 
reputation,  and  use  it  as  a  proof  in  his  favor  of  the  untenable- 
ness  of  their  position.  They  might,  perhaps,  annoy  him  a  little  ; 
but  what  could  they  do  without  the  girl  ?  It  was  more  than  likely 
that  they  would  desist  as  soon  as  they  would  learn  of  her  disap 
pearance. 

These  were  the  duke's  calculations,  and  his  present  conduct  was 
based  upon  them.  He  was,  therefore,  surprised  to  see  that  his  re 
ply,  instead  of  arousing  the  passion  of  the  visitor,  had  only  the 
effect  of  exciting  his  mirth.  Indeed,  Charles  smiled  ;  he  smiled  as 
strongly  as  he  could  without  overstepping  the  borders  of  good 
breeding.  Some  persons  might  have  styled  his  smile  a  laugh. 
NOWT  he  smiled  because  he  understood  the  duke's  position  ;  be 
cause  he  read  in  his  soul  as  in  a  book  ;  and,  finally,  because  he 
enjoyed  the  thought  of  driving  that  rogue  of  high  rank  from  posi 
tion  to  position  until  nothing  but  an  unconditional  surrender  would 
be  left.  He  only  smiled  a  moment,  though  ;  the  time  for  the  strug 
gle  had  arrived. 

"  Sir  duke,"  he  said  with  a  low  voice,  looking  at  the  same  time 
around  the  room  as  if  he  wanted  to  see  whether  any  uncalled-for 
ears  were  listening,  "if  you  would  accept  my  advice  you  would 
not  stand  on  ground  which  is  wholly  untenable." 

"Thank  you,  signer,  for  that  advice,"  the  duke  said  with 
freezing  coldness  ;  "  but  I  am  in  the  habit  of  taking  my  own  coun 
sel." 


424  DOLORES; 

Charles  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Perhaps  you  will  change  your  tactics  after  receiving  certain 
information.  You  are  not  the  only  person  receiving  telegraphic 
dispatches.  That  glorious  institution,  the  pride  of  our  age,  is  a 
common  institution,  thank  God." 

He  stopped.  He  wanted  to  crush  the  duke  by  inches.  That 
was  cruel,  no  doubt ;  but  he  meant  to  be  cruel,  because  lie  thought 
that  the  man  before  him  deserved  punishment.  He  looked  at  his 
victim  and  saw  at  once  that  his  arrow  had  hit  the  mark — the  duke 
had  got  a  shade  paler  and  he  did  not  reply  ;  that  was  proof  beyond 
a  doubt. 

"  Your  dispatch  told  you  that  all  was  right,"  he  continued, 
"but  mine  is  of  a  later  date,  you  see,  and  tells  me  that  Gil  is 
ivrong — that  is,  as  far  as  you  are  concerned." 

The  duke  felt  that  the  stranger  played  with  him,  as  the  cat 
with  the  mouse,  and  he  made  a  powerful  effort  to  free  himself  from 
that  keen,  sarcastic  look;  those  sharp,  biting  words.  He  struggled 
hard  and  he  failed.  Charles  saw  him  collapse,  and  feeling  a  touch 
of  pity,  he  hastened  his  operations. 

"  I'll  not  speak  in  riddles,  signor,"  he  resumed.  "I'll  tell  you 
plainly  that  the  prisoner  has  been  rescued  from  your  castle  on  the 
lake.  I'll  tell  you  plainly  that  she  is  now  in  this  city,  and  that  it 
would  cost  us  but  an  hour  to  reach  the  court  and  whisper  into  the 
king's  ear  a  tale  of  shame  and  treachery.  After  this  statement, 
which  your  stubbornness  compelled  me  to  make,  I  repeat  my  orig 
inal  question  :  Is  your  grace  inclined  to  make  an  amicable  settle 
ment  ?" 

The  duke  all  the  time  felt  a  keen  torment,  worse  than  which 
the  doomed  spirits  cannot  suffer  ;  but  these  very  tortures  bred 
thoughts  within  his  mind  also  worthy  of  demoniac  spirits.  Could 
he  possibly  secure  this  daring  person  who  outraged  him  in  the  very 
privacy  of  his  sanctum  ?  Could  he  not  command  some  trusty  fol 
lowers  among  his  servants  who  would  be  willing  to  assist  in  silenc 
ing  those  lips  forever  ? 

These  thoughts  were  by  no  means  mature  ;  but  his  nervous  body 
anticipated  their  completion.  His  hand  jerked  towards  the  bell  on 
the  table  and  might  have  touched  it  if  it  had  not  been  for  its  very 
nervousness. 


DOLORES.  425 

Charles  saw  the  motion,  but  it  had  no  other  effect  on  him  than 
the  duke's  previous  measures — it  created  another  smile. 

"Ring  away,  sir  duke,"  he  said  scornfully,  "for  all  the  good 
your  ringing  will  do  you.  Do  you  think  that  I  was  silly  enough 
to  beard  the  lion  in  his  den  without  securing  my  retreat  ?  Allow 
me  to  inform  you  that  our  minister  is  in  the  secret,  and  that  this 
secret  will  start  on  its  way  to  the  royal  palace  if  within  one  hour 
from  now  I  do  not  make  my  appearance  at  the  embassy.  Sir  duke, 
will  you  allow  me  to  repeat  my  question  :  Are  you  ready  for  an 
amicable  settlement?" 

The  proud  noble  was  completely  humbled  ;  he  was  more  than 
humbled — he  was  crushed.  Raising  his  hand  with  a  supplicating 
gesture,  he  said  in  a  broken  voice : 

"  Mercy,  mercy  !  do  not  proceed.  I  am  willing  to  do  anything 
you  wish  ;  but  not  now,  not  now.  I  am  not  able  to  attend  to  busi 
ness  just  now  ;  grant  me  a  respite  till  to-morrow  ?" 

"I  will,  signor,  and  with  pleasure  ;  but,  mark,  if  this  is  merely 
a  subterfuge  ;  if  to-morrow  you  begin  your  game  over  again — in 
that  case  J  shall  refuse  to  treat.  In  that  case  I  shall  let  justice 
have  her  sway  and  publicity  her  victim." 

"Be  it  as  you  say,"  the  duke  replied;  "but  now  leave  me, 
leave  me,  sir." 

Charles  obeyed  his  wishes,  and,  bowing  deeply,  withdrew  from 
the  chamber. 

On  the  next  morning  the  papers  contained  the  startling  an 
nouncement  that  the  duke  di  Gatana  had  suddenly  (Jied  in  conse 
quence  of  a  stroke  of  apoplexy. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

THE    RE    GALANT    HUOMO. 

Mrs.  Fox  and  her  daughter  had  arrived.  The  room  of  the 
hotel  where  Mr.  Fox  had  taken  his  abode  witnessed  a  happy  scene. 
They  were  reunited — reunited  after  much  suffering  and  some  peril. 
Such  adversities  are  necessary  to  give  us  the  full  appreciation  of 

28 


426  DOLORES. 

the  value  of  love  and  friendship.  They  are  apt  to  make  us  more 
contented  and  better.  They  made  the  members  of  this  family 
better;  softening  the  rough  outlines  of  some  characters  and  giving 
strength  to  the  new  formation  of  others.  Happy  they  were,  of 
course ;  so  happy  that  Dolores  declared  it  to  be  tempting  fortune 
to  force  any  more  gifts  from  her  unwilling  hand.  She  demanded 
an  immediate  departure  for  her  home  across  the  ocean  and  the 
startling  news  of  her  uncle's  sudden  death  could  not  change  her 
opinion.  Yet  Charles  and  Mr.  Fox  would  not  listen  to  her  persua 
sions.  The  former  declared  emphatically  that  his  own  wishes  coin 
cided  to  those  of  Dolores,  and  that  she  would  be  as  welcome  to 
him  without  as  with  a  crown  ;  but  he  sided  with  Mr.  Fox  when 
that  gentleman  declared  that  they  had  no  right  to  humor  the 
wishes  of  an  inexperienced  child  who  did  not  know  the  value  of 
the  pearls  she  wished  to  fling  away.  Riper  years  might  bring  re 
pentance  of  the  rash  act,  and  it  was  Mr.  Fox's  duty  to  secure  him 
self  against  reproaches  which  were  not  probable,  but  yet  possible. 
So  the  wishes  of  Dolores  were  overruled,  and  it  was  resolved  that 
an  audience  with  the  king  should  be  sought  and  a  decision  of  the 
case  solicited  from  his  impartiality  and  judgment.  The  minister 
easily  obtained  permission  for  his  protege  to  appear,  and  it  was 
decided  that  Dolores,  in  the  company  of  Mr.  Fox  and  Charles, 
should  be  presented.  They  procured  the  necessary  suits,  and  one 
afternoon,  in  company  with  the  minister,  drove  to  the  palace.  The 
king  was  alone,  and  he  received  the  party  with  his  usual  friendli 
ness  and  condescension.  He  had  just  read  the  description  of  the 
young  lady's  case,  and  now  looked  with  interest  and  admiration 
upon  the  splendid  beauty  of  the  youthful  duchess. 

"  I  bid  you  welcome  at  my  court,  Dolores  di  Gatana, "  he  said, 
reaching  his  hand  to  her.  "  You  have  gone  through  many  vicissi 
tudes  of  fortune  from  what  I  learn  ;  let  us  hope  that  in  the  future 
only  the  sun  of  happiness  will  shine  on  your  path." 

' '  I  thank  your  majesty." 

"And  this  is  the  worthy  gentleman  who  has  guided  your  help 
less  youth  in  the  land  beyond  the  ocean  ?" 

' '  He  was  and  is  my  father. ' ' 

"That  is  right ;  gratitude  is  a  virtue  which  adorns  every  rank 
and  station.  I  welcome  you  at  my  court,  Signor  Fox." 


DOLORES.  427 

Mr.  Fox  replied  by  bowing  in  silence. 

"But  this  second  friend  of  yours — in  what  capacity  must  I  re 
gard  him  ?" 

"  As  a  cousin,  your  majesty,  and  a  dear  friend." 

Dolores  blushed  in  speaking  and  the  king  smiled. 

"Give  me  your  hand,  young  gentleman  ;  the  friendship  of  this 
charming  lady  is  the  best  recommendation  you  could  bring  me. 
But,  now  having  welcomed  you,  my  lady,  I  would  ask  you  what 
do  you  want  me  to  do  in  this  novel  case  of  yours  ?" 

Dolores  bowed. 

"  I  leave  it  to  your  majesty's  best  discretion." 

"And  you  have  no  wishes  you  would  want  me  to  regard." 

"  Yes,  your  majesty,  I  have.  I  have  the  wish  to  be  spared  this 
wealth  and  splendor,  which,  as  I  have  experienced  even  now,  car 
ries  with  it  much  constraint  and  hollowness.  I  want  nothing  better 
than  to  be  allowed  to  continue  in  the  same  sphere  where  a  merciful 
Providence  has  placed  me." 

The  king  became  more  and  more  interested  in  this  lovely  girl. 

"You  speak  wisely  for  one  so  young,"  he  said  ;  "but  what  pre 
vents  you  from  indulging  in  your  wishes  ?" 

"The  deference  in  which  I  hold  the  opinion  of  these  friends. 
They  both  appear  to  think  that  I  ought  not  to  decide  so  important 
a  matter  in  my  youth  and  inexperience. ' ' 

"  By  the  Holy  Virgin,  they  are  right,  Dolores.  I  thank  them 
for  giving  me  a  chance  to  see  one  of  the  fairest  jewels  of  my 
crown.  No,  no,  we  cannot  afford  to  lose  you,  child." 

He  stopped  and  seemed  to  meditate  a  little  while. 

"  They  tell  me  the  deceased  duke  left  a  son,"  he  began  after  a 
while.  "What  would  you  say  if  we  solved  this  Gordian  knot,  a 
second  Alexander,  by  making  you  and  him  a  pair  ?" 

Dolores  stepped  back  a  step,  and  her  consternation  at  the  king's 
suggestion  was  so  evident  that  he  could  not  help  noticing  it. 

"My  proposal  does  not  seem  to  meet  your  approbation,"  he  said, 
smiling.  ' '  I  cannot  construe  your  evident  repugnance  in  any  other 
way  than  by  interpreting  it  as  a  declaration  that  your  heart  is 
already  engaged." 

A  deep  blush  on  her  cheeks  confirmed  his  suspicion. 


428  DOLORES. 

"And  this  happy  individual/1  he  continued;  "does  my  eye 
behold  him  ?" 

He  glanced  at  Charles,  and,  Dolores  taking  courage,  seized  the 
young  man's  hand  and,  presenting  him  to  the  king,  said  : 

"  Your  majesty  will  make  me  very  happy  by  approving  of  my 
choice." 

"With  pleasure,  child,  with  pleasure.  lam  no  tyrant  who 
rends  happy  hearts  asunder.  I  congratulate  this  lucky  youth,  and, 
to  tell  the  truth,  I  envy  him." 

The  king  smiled  and  seemed  to  study  a  second  time  for  a  proper 
solution  of  this  question. 

"  I  see,"  he  resumed  as  before,  "  I  can  do  nothing  less  than  be 
stow  your  rank  upon  your  husband.  In  such  case,  signor,  could  I 
count  upon  your  loyal  support  ?" 

The  king,  in  speaking  the  latter  words,  had  turned  to  Charles. 
Our  young  friend  was  sorry  for  this  question.  It  pained  him  to 
reject  the  king's  kindness,  and  yet  his  principles  would  suffer  noth 
ing  else. 

"Your  majesty  will  pardon  me,"  he  said  with  a  noble  grace 
that  won  the  king's  approval,  if  I  respectfully  decline  the  great 
honor  offered  me.  I  am  an  American  citizen,  sire,  and,  as  such, 
forbidden  to  receive  any  rank  or  favor  from  a  foreign  potentate." 

"  But  you  might  expatriate  yourself." 

"I  love  my  country,  sire,"  the  young  man  said,  raising  his 
head  and  looking  proudly  in  the  king's  eye  ;  "and  no  considera 
tion,  not  even  my  devotion  to  this  lady,  could  induce  me  to  de 
sert  it." 

The  king  bit  his  lips,  and  for  a  moment  it  seemed  as  if  he 
meant  to  give  way  to  the  little  resentment  which  this  open  rejec 
tion  had  created.  But  Victor  Emanuel  had  not  the  reputation  of 
a  good  man  for  nothing.  He  promptly  conquered  the  tran 
sient  emotion,  and,  offering  his  hand  to  Charles  a  second  time, 
he  said : 

"Proud  as  a  Republican !  is  the  adage;  but  I  bear  you  no 
malice,  and  here  is  my  hand  as  a  pledge  of  the  sincerity  of  my 
words.  I  respect  your  character,  though  it  makes  me  doubly  sorry 
that  I  have  n©  chance  of  winning  you  for  my  court." 


DOLOKES.  429 

Again  the  king  stopped,  and  this  time  the  silence  became 
painful.  To  end  it  Charles  stepped  forward: 

"Will  it  offend  your  majesty  if  I  give  my  opinion  unde- 
manded  ?" 

"Not  at  all,  sir.     I  should  like  to  hear  your  views." 

"  I  thank  your  majesty.  It  strikes  me  that  it  would  hardly  be 
fair  to  make  the  duke's  son  suffer  for  his  father's  faults  ;  how 
would  it  answer  to  divide  the  domains  of  the  ducal  house  between 
the  heirs  disputant  ?" 

"That  is  a  fair  proposal,  sir  ;  but  does  it  meet  the  lady's  appro 
bation  ?" 

"Anything  which  Charles  proposes  is  acceptible  to  me." 

' '  Fair  words  from  fair  lips.  It  strikes  me  as  if  I  myself  could 
refuse  a  ducal  crown  for  the  love  of  such  a  damsel.  Be  it  then, 
as  you  say ;  but  I  have  to  make  one  condition." 

"  Will  your  madjesty  please  to  name  it.  ?" 

"  I  am  too  selfish  to  lose  such  a  fair  subject  altogether,  and 
therefore  make  the  stipulation  that  you  spend  one  third  of  all  your 
time  in  my  dominions." 

"And  if  I  fail?" 

' '  You  pay  the  income  of  the  estates  for  that  year  to  the  poor  of 
my  kingdom." 

"Accepted,  majesty." 

"  And  now,  have  you  any  other  favor  to  ask  ?  " 

"  Yes,  with  your  majesty's  permission,  I  would  ask  a  full  pardon 
of  Luigi,  the  brigand  and  his  band." 

The  king  was  evidently  both  surprised  and  amused  at  this  re 
quest. 

"  May  I  ask  you  the  reason  of  that  request  ?"  he  asked. 

Dolores  hesitated. 

"  My  answer  might  impair  the  reputation  of  the  Duke,  my 
uncle." 

"  Never  minJ.     Your  words  are  safe  with  me." 

So  driven,  Dolores  saw  herself  compelled  to  narrate  how  Luigi 
had  assisted  her  in  escaping  from  the  Duke's  castle.  The  king  was 
interested  and  he  was  moved-  Laying  his  hand  upon  the  lady's 
head,  he  said  : 


430  DOLORES. 

"  You  are  as  good  as  you  are  beautiful.  Will  you  pledge  me  a 
visit  every  time  you  visit  Italy  ?  " 

"  With  all  my  heart,  sire." 

"Then  you  shall  have  the  pardon.  Excuse  me  a  few  moments 
if  you  please." 

With  these  words  the  king  left  the  room  and  Mr.  Fox  took  a 
long  breath.  The  presence  of  a  majesty  evidently  did  not  agree 
with  his  republican  lungs. 

"Dol,"  he  said,  "I  don't  know  how  you  get  all  the  words  to 
speak  so  handsomely.  I  felt  all  the  time  as  if  I  was  standing  on 
eggs." 

Dolores  laughed. 

"And  you,  Charlie,  bold  rascal  that  you  are,  to  throw  a  crown 
at  a  kings  feet." 

"  Wasn't  I  right,  Mr.  Fox." 

"  Well,  yes,  I  think  you  were.  That  is,  I  mean  to  say,  it  was 
rather  a  ticklish  job." 

Before  Charles  could  reply  the  king  re-entered  the  room.  He 
handed  Dolores  a  letter  and  said : 

"Here  is  the  pardon.  The  rascal  may  thank  his  lucky  stars 
for  your  timely  interference ;  for  these  robbers  have  got  so  bold 
since  the  war  that  1  was  meditating  a  crusade  in  force  against 
them.  But,  now,  having  granted  you  a  favor  I  claim  the  privilege 
of  asking  one  myself." 

"  What  can  I  grant  worthy  of  a  kings  acceptance  ?  " 

"  That  you  will  allow  me  to  give  away  this  hand;  next  to  re 
ceiving  it,  it  is  the  greatest  pleasure  I  can  conceive." 

"Your  majesty  overwhelms  me  with  your  kindness.  Indeed 
we  had  not  thought  of  so  early  a  marriage." 

"But  you  will  change  your  plan  to  accomodate  me.  I  know 
you  will.  You,  sir,  I  suppose  have  no  objection  to  my  proposition  ?" 

"Not  the  slightest !"  Charles  cried  with  a  radient  eye. 

"  I  thought  so,"  the  king  said  coolly.     "  And  you  sir  ?  " 

"I  can  only  say  that  the  day  of  their  union  will  be  the  hap 
piest  of  my  life, "  Mr.  Fox  responded. 

"That  is  settled  then.  Let  it  be  understood  that  I  give  the 
bride  away  and  make  the  necessary  arrangements.  I  shall  see  you 


DOLORES.  431 

again  ;  for  to-day  you  must  kindly  excuse  me.     My  leisure  time  is 
up." 

The  king  waved  his  hand.  They  were  dismissed.  Dolores  was 
as  in  a  trance,  and  she  stated  in  after  years  that  she  never  knew  how 
she  reached  her  hotel. 

Mrs.  Fox  and  Lucy  opened  their  eyes  to  their  widest  extent 
and  would  hardly  credit  the  story  of  the  king's  gracious  condescen 
sion.  Dolores  bore  her  luck  meekly ;  Charles  his  proudly. 

"  And  the  wedding  is  to  be  soon  ?  "  Mrs.  Fox  exclaimed,  clasp 
ing  her  hands  in  token  of  her  surprise  and  joyous  excitement. 

"  Yes  mother  " — Charles  thought  he  might  take  the  liberty  now 
— "  but  we  don't  know  the  day.  The  king  is  to  appoint  it  himself. 
I  don't  care  how  soon  it  comes  so  that  I  can  get  a  witness  from  the 
lake.  Dol,  you  were  a  noble  girl  to  think  of  Luigi.  You  are  so 
much  better  and  smarter  than  I.  I  should  never  have  thought  of 
such  a  thing.  Will  you  give  me  the  paper  and  allow  me  to  depart 
at  once,  to  take  the  joyful  news  to  Luigi  ?  " 

"  I  will,  Charlie,  and  I  charge  you  to  bring  him  along  without 
fail." 

"I'll  try  my  best,  Dol.  Good- by  my  darling, soon  my  bride. 
Mother  take  good  care  of  her.  Good- by  to  all  of  you." 

"What,  Charlie,  leave  us  now?"  Mr.  Fox  exclaimed.  '-You 
cannot  think  of  such  a  thing." 

"Indeed  I  can  and  do.  I  have  to  pay  a  debt  of  gratitude  in 
which  both  Dolores  and  I  are  concerned.  To-morrow  might  be  too 
late.  Indeed  I  hare  a  foreboding  as  if  it  would  be.  Good-bye 
once  more  and  a  happy  re-union." 

He  drew  Dolores  into  his  arms  and  kissed  her  tenderly.  After 
t"hat  he  took  his  hat  and  before  they  could  say  or  do  anything  to 
the  contrary  he  had  left  the  room. 

It  is  our  duty  once  more  to  accompany  him  on  his  trip.  For 
tunately,  this  is  the  day  of  railroads,  and  we  can  let  the  young 
man  travel  with  the  fastest  express  train  of  the  road.  Behold !  he 
has  already  reached  the  station,  where  he  quits  the  ironway  and 
takes  a  carriage  for  the  little  town  of  Canti.  Now  he  is  there,  he 
seeks  the  magistrate  and  puts  the  king's  pardon  into  his  hand. 
The  man  knows  the  royal  signature,  and  feels  a  great  deal  of  re- 


432  DOLORES. 

spect  for  a  man  who  has  influence  enough  to  procure  such  a  docu 
ment. 

"  Your  excellency  is  just  in  time  to  do  the  work  of  mercy.  To 
morrow  might  have  been  too  late,  for  I  now  hold  an  order  from  the 
secretary  of  the  interior  to  use  the  most  rigid  measures  to  stop 
the  depredations  of  these  banditti.  A  company  of  regulars  have 
been  placed  at  my  disposal  and  a  most  deadly  conflict  stood  in  pros 
pect.  But  how,  your  excellency,  convey  this  joyful  intelligence 
to  Luigi?" 

''There  is  no  trouble  in  that,  my  friend.  I  happen  to  know 
his  place  of  refuge." 

"  Indeed  !  If  you  will  pardon  the  liberty,  I  should  ask  whether 
your  excellency  is  the  gentleman  who  was  mixed  up  with  Luigi's- 
last  offense  ?" 

"  I  might  answer  yes  to  that  question  and  not  be  far  out  of  the 
way,"  Charles  replied  with  a  laugh.  "  But  I  have  little  time  to 
lose  ;  you  would  oblige  me  by  making  out  a  safe  pass  for  my  pro 
tege  without  delay. ' ' 

The  magistrate  complied  with  this  request,  and  an  hour  after 
wards  Charles  again  started  on  his  mission  of  mercy.  He  found 
the  road  without  any  trouble,  and,  having  gained  the  pass,  as 
cended  it  until  he  reached  a  place  a  few  hundred  yards  from  where 
he  knew  the  sentinel  to  be  posted.  A  shrill  whistle  brought  out 
the  head  of  the  man.  Charles  broke  a  green  bough  and  with  it 
advanced  until  the  sentinel  told  him  to  stop. 

"  Man,  have  you  forgotten  me?"  Charles  cried  to  him. 

"By  the  madonna,  you  are  Signor  Carlo,  the  captain's  friend." 

"Is  he  at  home?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  in  truth,  he  has  been  a  different  man  ever  since  your 
departure,  and  doesn't  stir  a  particle." 

' '  I  want  to  see  him." 

"  AVell,  come  on  ;  a  good  friend  like  you  one  can  pass  without 
much  danger.  The  captain  will  be  so  glad  to  see  you  !" 

And,  indeed,  he  was  glad.  When  Charles  emerged  from  the 
pass  and  showed  his  face  to  the  chieftain,  that  man  sprang  up  as  if 
a  bullet  had  hit  him.  One  bounce  and  he  lay  in  Charles'  arms. 

"  You  return  ?     You  have  not  forgotten  poor  Luigi  ?" 

"No,  indeed;    you  hardly  thought  I  would?     lam  the  har- 


DOLORES.  433 

binger  of  good  news,  Luigi.  I  have  secured  your  pardon  from  the 
king." 

But  Luigi  did  not  appear  to  be  glad  at  this  news  at  all. 

"  I  thank  you,  my  friend,  for  your  kind  intentions,  and  I  shall 
take  it  just  the  same  as  if  I  could  benefit  by  it.  But  you  know 
I  can  not.  1  am  no  better  than  these,  and  as  they  fare  I  must 
fare." 

''But,  man,  I  knew  all  that,  and  therefore  procured  a  free  par 
don  for  all,  or,  rather,  she  did.  Just  think  of  it !  with  her  own 
sweet  lips  she  begged  the  pardon  of  you  all  from  the  king.  Here, 
take  this.  It  is  the  safe  pass  from  the  magistrate  in  Canti  for  you 
and  all  your  followers." 

Luigi  took  the  paper  with  a  trembling  hand.  He  wanted  to 
speak,  but  he  could  not.  Another  moment  and  that  strong  man, 
that  man  of  iron  body  and  iron  will,  wept  like  a  child. 

"Tell  them,"  he  sobbed,  "I  can— not— do  it." 

Charles  acted  on  the  hint.  Mounting  on  a  ledge  projecting 
from  the  rocks,  he  waved  his  hat  and,  by  his  cries,  brought  all  the 
band  to  his  feet.  They  wondered,  no  doubt,  what  was  the  matter, 
looking  now  at  their  weeping  leader,  now  at  the  stranger. 

"  Men,"  he  cried,  "  I  have  happy  news  for  you.  You  recollect 
the  lady  who  owes  the  recovery  of  her  freedom  to  your  generosity  ? 
Very  well ;  she  went  to  the  capital  here  and,  like  a  good,  noble 
lady  that  she  is,  went  to  the  king  to  procure  a  free  pardon  for  you 
all.  Here  I  hold  it  in  my  hand." 

For  a  moment  the  crowd  was  still ;  they  seemed  to  fail  to  com 
prehend  the  meaning  of  the  words.  But,  after  a  few  minutes, 
when  the  consciousness  of  their  good  luck  had  burst  upon  their 
brains,  they  all  broke  out  into  a  loud  and  simultaneous  shout  of 
delight.  Some  danced,  others  fell  into  each  other's  arms,  and  a 
few — like  their  chieftain — went  aside  and  cried.  Charles  allowed 
their  first  delirium  of  joy  to  pass  away  before  he  made  another 
effort  to  speak  ;  but  when  he  thought  them  cool  enough  to  give 
him  their  attention,  he  raised  his  hand  as  an  indication  that  he  had 
more  to  say. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you  all  so  happy,"  he  resumed.  "You  have 
occasion  for  rejoicing,  for  a  heavy  weight  has  been  taken  from 
your  shoulders.  You  are  newly  born,  as  it  were,  and  I  hope  that 


434  DOLORES. 

nil  of  you  will  begin  a  new  life.  You  have  my  sincere  wishes,  and, 
what  is  more,  you  shall  have  my  assistance.  In  the  name  of  the 
good  lady,  to  whom  you  are  indebted  for  this  happy  moment,  I 
•offer  every  one  of  you  the  chance  of  a  life,  industrious  but  free  of 
care.  The  lady  is  going  to  enter  upon  the  possession  of  large  es 
tates,  and  it  shall  be  my  pleasure  and  my  privilege  to  employ  every 
one  of  you  according  to  his  talents  and  his  inclinations.  Until  that 
time  I  shall  furnish  your  former  leader  with  the  means  to  support 
you.  None  of  you  shall  leave  here  and  say,  '  I  had  no  chance  to 
amend  ;  destitution  forced  me  back  to  a  freebooter's  life.'  Recol 
lect,  we  hold  out  a  helping  hand  to  all  of  yon.  But  we  make  one 
condition — one  rigid,  stern,  unchangeable  condition.  It  is,  Sin  no 
more  /' ' 

After  these  words  Charles  sprang  from  the  ledge,  and,  so  eager 
were  the  grateful  children  of  the  forest  to  press  his  hand  and  stam 
mer  their  thanks,  that  he  found  difficulty  to  catch  sufficient  air  for 
breathing  and  space  for  standing.  At  last  he  succeeded  in  reach 
ing  the  place  where  Luigi  stood  a  mute,  but  appreciating  spectator 
of  the  scene.  Charles  told  him  to  bid  the  men  gather  their  valua 
bles  and  then  form  in  procession  below  the  narrow  passage.  They 
did  not  possess  much,  for,  with  the  characteristic  thoughtlessness 
of  their  class,  they  had  always  spent  their  ill-gotten  gain  as  quickly 
as  they  had  earned  it.  Therefore,  the  procession  was  soon  formed, 
and,  with  Charles  and  Luigi  at  their  head,  they  marched  to  Canti 
to  receive  a  written  certificate  of  their  pardon.  They  formed  a  sin 
gular  procession,  these  wild-looking  men,  interspersed  with  numer 
ous  women  and  children,  and  many  a  curious  eye  stopped  on  the 
road  to  view  them  and  him  who  led  them.  The  town  was  all  astir, 
and  the  sidewalks  of  the  streets  lined  with  spectators.  Charles, 
however,  did  not  care  ;  freely  and  frankly  he  gazed  around,  and 
many  a  pretty  maiden  acknowledged  to  herself  or  her  bosom 
friend  that  the  foreign  signor  was  a  very  handsome  youth.  Charles 
was  proud  of  his  role  ;  in  fact,  never  in  all  his  life  had  he  felt  so 
proud  as  at  the  head  of  that  promiscuous  band. 

At  the  court  house  they  halted,  and  it  required  several  hours 
until  every  one  had  his  pardon  in  his  pocket.  Then  Charles  made 
them  fall  in  rank  again  and  led  them  from  the  town  until  they 
reached  a  commons  with  large  chestnut  trees  scattered  here  and 


DOLORES.  435 

there.     Forming*  them  in  a  circle,  and,  stepping  himself  into  the 
centre,  he  made  them  another,  a  final  speech. 

"My  friends,"  he  said,  "I  have  to  leave  you  now,  and,  what 
is  worse,  I  have  to  rob  you  of  Luigi  for  a  little  while.  But  he  is 
to  come  back,  and,  in  the  meantime,  I  shall  see  that  you  are  not 
lacking  the  necessaries  of  life.  How  many  are  there  of  you  ?" 

A  census  was  taken,  which  showed  the  whole  band  to  number 
thirty-five  heads,  about  one  third  of  which  belonged  to  women  and 
children. 

"Luigi,  how  much  money  is  necessary  to  feed  them  well  for 
twenty-four  hours  ?"  Charles  inquired. 

"  A  louis  d'or  will  do  it  well." 

"  Very  well,  I  shall  take  my  measures  accordingly.  My  friends, 
could  you  camp  under  these  trees  for  a  couple  of  weeks  ?" 

"We  can,  if  the  magistrates  will  let  us,"  a  voice  from  the 
crowd  responded. 

' '  I  expect  to  gain  their  consent.  Now,  mind  well  what  I  tell 
you.  I  shall  contract  with  some  one  in  town  to  furnish  you  the 
necessary  supplies  for  thirty  days.  So  long  you  will  be  without  a 
leader,  for  you  must  learn  to  lead  yourselves,  must  learn  self-con 
trol  and  gain  self  reliance.  These  thirty  days  shall  be  a  time  of 
trial  of  probation.  You  must  not  stray  from  here,  and  abstain 
from  all  and  every  lawless  action.  Those  of  you  who  stand  this 
test  I  shall  take  care  of  on  my  return  ;  those,  however,  who  are 
unable  to  restrain  themselves  so  little  as  to  disregard  my  wishes, 
I  shall  deem  unworthy  of  further  sympathy  and  show  them  the 
cold  shoulder.  And  now,  farewell.  I  shall  go  to  town  with 
Luigi  and  take  the  necessary  measures  in  your  behalf.  Farewell, 
and  let  me  hope  that  I  shall  find  you  here — all  of  you — on  my 
return." 

Another  scene  of  pressing  around  the  young  man  ;  more  shak 
ing  of  hands,  more  shedding  of  tears.  They  have  left,  and  the 
members  of  the  little  tribe  look  at  one  another  with  eyes  as  help 
less  as  those  of  children  who  have  suddenly  been  deprived  of  their 
mother. 

Charles  and  Luigi  went  to  town.  Their  first  walk  was  to  the 
magistrate,  to  whom  the  former  explained  his  intentions  concerning 
the  late  banditti,  begging  his  consent  to  their  remaining  on  the 


436  DOLORES. 

commons  until  he  could  take  better  care  of  them.  The  magistrate 
was  a  good  and  kind  man,  and,  without  difficulty,  granted  the  de 
sired  permission. 

"  You  are  a  wise  young  man,"  he  said  to  Charles,  shaking  his 
hand  with  sincere  admiration.  "  To  have  secured  the  pardon  of 
these  men  may  be  a  good  deed ;  but  to  secure  them  the  chance  of 
an  industrious,  honest  life  is  one  infinitely  better.  To  set  these 
men  free  and  adrift  would  be  little  better  than  to  force  them  back 
to  their  old  wicked  ways.  I  admire  your  generosity,  and  I  admire 
your  plan  of  gradual  emancipation.  Those  who  cannot  await  your 
return  without  further  transgressions  are  indeed  unfit  subjects  of 
compassion  and  deserve  nothing  better  than  the  hempen  noose, 
which  will  be  their  final  destiny.  I  wish  you  the  best  success,  sig- 
nor,  in  your  philanthropic  efforts,  and  you  may  rest  assured  that 
you  have  at  least  the  aid  which  I  can  give  and  my  prayers." 

"Thank  you,  sir.  Tell  me,  would  it  be  much  trouble  for  you 
to  take  care  of  these  thirty  pieces  of  gold  ?  I  want  the  money  tc 
be  spent  for  the  support  of  my  clients  and  expect  to  contract  with 
some  one  for  the  provisions.  But  I  fear  deception  in  case  the  con 
tractor  is  beyond  control,  and  a  surveillance  on  your  part,  signor, 
would  no  doubt  prevent  swindling. 

The  magistrate  received  the  money  and  promised  to  see  that  it 
should  be  spent  honestly  and  properly.  So  everything  was  settled 
to  his  satisfaction,  and,  making  a  circuit  for  the  purpose  of  avoid 
ing  another  contact,  Charles  reached  the  railroad  with  his  friend 
much  sooner  than  he  had  expected.  On  arriving  at  the  hotel  in 
Turin  he  was,  of  course,  received  with  open  arms,  and  the  reader 
will  readily  believe  me  when  I  tell  him  that  the  famous  brigand, 
too,  received  much  care  and  attention. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

CONCLUSION. 

• 

The  nuptials  of  our  hero  and  heroine  turned  out  a  grand  affair. 
The  undertakings  of  a  king  are  not  always  royal,  but  in  this  in 
stance  they  were.  The  king,  according  to  the  program,  gave  away 


DOLORES.  437 

the  bride,  and  a  magnificent  bride  she  was.  I  could  spend  a  couple 
of  pages  in  describing  her  splendid  robe,  her  veil  of  gossamer,  pre 
sented  by  his  majesty  ;  her  priceless  jewels;  but,  then,  I  shun  the 
rigid  criticism  of  the  fair  sex,  and  rather  omit  the  chance  of  a 
grand  description  than  betray  my  ignorance  of  the  thousand  and 
one  articles  which  make  up  a  lady's  toilet.  I  also  pass  over  the 
stately  appearance  of  the  bridegroom,  and  merely  mention  that, 
beside  Luigi,  another  visitor  of  interest  was  among  the  guests  as 
sembled — I  mean  the  young  Duke  di  Gatana,  the  cousin  of  the 
bride.  The  generous  conduct  of  Dolores  had  gained  her  the  love 
of  her  aunt  as  well  as  her  cousin,  and,  although  his  recent  loss 
would  have  excused  his  absence,  he  could  not  refuse  himself  the 
satisfaction  of  gracing  the  ceremony  by  his  presence,  and,  as  the 
head  of  the  family,  giving  it  his  sanction. 

I  assure  the  reader  that  it  is  quite  a  self-denial  to  now  break  off 
the  thread  of  my  tale,  but  I  see  well  enough  that  it  must  be  done 
some  time  or  other,  and  where  could  there  be  a  fitter  opportunity 
than  the  entrance  of  my  heroes  into  that  harbor  of  bliss  which 
they  so  richly  deserve  ? 

In  Foxville  the  establishment  has  been  largely  increased  and 
the  hands  more  than  doubled.  The  concern  flourishes  in  spite  of 
the  war,  or,  perhaps,  in  consequence  of  it.  Charles,  who  has  en 
tered  as  partner,  gives  his  workmen  a  share  of  the  profits,  and  they 
go  through  the  fire  for  him,  as  the  Germans  say. 

In  Italy  their  estates  are  equally  flourishing.  Numerous  estab 
lishments  for  raising  silk  worms  or  making  wine  and  olive-oil,  or 
braiding  straw  hats  or  bonnets  have  sprung  up  everywhere  on  their 
lands,  and  their  "subjects"  are  envied  far  and  near.  They  treat 
them  well  and  encourage  their  industry  by  allowing  them  a  fair 
portion  of  the  profits  of  their  labor.  They  encourage  industry  more 
over  by  putting  a  premium  on  intelligence  and  establishing  every 
where  good  schools.  No  child  is  allowed  to  work  in  their  factories 
and  they  make  it  compulsory  on  the  part  of  the  parents  to  send 
their  children  to  school. 

Amongst  their  most  florishing  settlements  is  that  of  the  bandits 
of  our  acquaintance.  They  never  fail  to  visit  this  settlement,  and 
are  always  received  with  faithful  demonstrations  of  joy.  '  Luigi  is 
their  assistant  in  their  Italian  domains.  Burlesque  in  those  of  the 


438  DOLORES. 

new  world.  It  is  hard  to  say  which  of  the  two  is  more  warmly  at 
tached  to  the  noble  pair.  Luigi  is  still  single ;  his  ardent  friend 
ship  almost  excludes  the  possibility  of  his  loving.  Burlesque  on 
the  other  hand  has  recently  won  the  heart  and  hand  of  Lucy. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fox  enjoy  their  usual  good  health  but  their  spirits 
seem  to  increase  with  their  years.  The  name  of  the  former  is  still 
in  the  firm ;  but  it  may  be  said  that  he  is  an  honorary  member  in  the 
true  sense  of  the  word.  He  is  regularly  absent  and  exempt  from 
paying  fees.  Is  that  not  the  definition  £f  an  "honorary  member?" 

Charlie's  parents  experience  the  truth  of  the  bible  words  which 
say  :  A  wise  son  makes  a  glad  father;  but  a  foolish  son  is  the  heavi 
ness  of  his  mother."  They  still  pretend  to  live  in  the  cottage,  but 
in  reality  they  spend  most  of  their  time  in  the  house  which  Charles 
has  built  in  the  neighborhood  of  his  own  home.  They  dote  upon  a 
little  stranger  who  has  arrived  and  predicts  he  will  unite  his  father's 
integrity  and  intellect  with  his  mother's  goodnes  and  beauty.  Henry 
and  Richard  are  in  Italy.  They  have  just  served  their  last  term  of 
apprenticeship  under  the  pleasant  but  firm  rule  of  Luigi.  Mrs.  Fuchs 
Jr.  has  lately  caused  the  execution  of  a  deed,  by  which  two  fine 
farms  in  Lombardy  have  been  settled  upon  them.  If  the  report  is 
true,  they  have  learned  the  language  and  manners  of  their  country, 
and  look  with  favorable  eyes  upon  twro  damsels  there,  expecting  in 
turn  to  settle  their  farms  upon  them  as  their  better  halves  and 
helpmates. 

Mr.  Goodman  and  his  sister  Sarah  are  braving  the  inroads  of 
old  age  most  cheerfully.  As  far  as  cheerfulness  and  contentment 
are  concerned,  they  are  likely  to  cheat  old  age  out  of  its  dues. 

THE  END. 


M12004 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


